


Ghost.  QAF-style

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon, Ethan Gold Bashing, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, No Slash, Points of View
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-10
Updated: 2006-10-09
Packaged: 2018-12-27 12:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 63,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12081492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: NOTES: I wrote this after seeing 'Ghost'- I missed the first 15- 20 minutes or so. So, this is very loosely based on the movie- MANY details are changed. It's more like a 'concept theft' than a crossover or whatever. Just so you know: YES: there is major character death. BUT: there is a happy ending, and Brian and Justin end up together. How could they NOT? ;-)Feedback much appreciated! Thanks!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

\-----------------------  
"Do you love me, Brian?" 

"People SAY 'I love you' all the time. It doesn't mean anything, Justin."  
\-------------------------------------

 

POV: JUSTIN

 

Brian and I are walking home from Babylon because it's such a beautiful night- in fact, I insisted. We've left the 'Vette there, deciding to get it tomorrow morning on our way to the diner. (Actually, Michael's going to take it to Deb's and put it in the garage... I overheard Brian arrange it. He'd never leave his cockmobile out at Babylon's overnight.) 

It's about 2AM and we're near the loft- we're not at all drunk, but we are DEFinitely horny and we can't keep our hands off each other. So "walking home" isn't exactly the right way to put it- it's more like staggering, because one person's leg keeps getting tangled in the other's - then it's a problem of wrapping arms, bumping noses, sucking lips, rubbing nipples, cocks, balls, etc.. In other words, it's about every one to two minutes that we stop and at LEAST grope each other heavily... if not do more.

This is one of those 'minutes'. Brian yanks me into his arms and we kiss passionately, our tongues exploring each other's mouths, his hands slide into my pants and squeeze my ass and my fingers grope under his shirt and pinch and rub his nipples. When we pull away, we're breathless. 

"God.. Brian- I love you!" I gasp before he catches me in another breathtaking kiss; we grind our hips together, our cocks rubbing deliciously through our jeans. Jeans that we have just buttoned up after a quickie in an alley a few moments ago. We both smell like cum and it's beautiful.

"Ermf- Jus... ermf! Fuck, let's get all the way home- it's just a block and fuck I want to feel your completely naked body sweating against mine! I want to wrap myself around you! I want to ram my dick into your tight hole till my balls slap your ass cheeks so hard it sounds like a crowd applauding...!" 

I inhale sharply and am suddenly impossibly harder than the second before; Brian pulls back, grabs my wrist and starts towards the loft- but I'm so fucking needy and hungry, I yank him back, feeling a very small 'pop' in his wrist.

"Ow- fuc--" But he can't get any more than that out because my lips are on him and I devour his mouth, suck his tongue, bite his bottom lip- craving more of his sensuous, erotic, beautiful, unique Brian flavor right *now*. I leap into arms and I wrap my legs around him, rubbing my dick against his- Brian staggers slightly from the sudden impact of me jumping on him but soon he's steady. He moans and kisses me, drinks me in as though he were a parched man and I were a waterfall. Finally breathless, we pull away from each other's lips; "Here- Brian, I can't wait. Let's do it here!" He moans again in response, hoisting me higher onto his hips; we're by the park and he starts to carry me off into the bushes where there's a narrow trail. Then his back suddenly tenses and he stops in his tracks. 

"Brian? Are you okay? Brian?"

"Shhhh!" His brow creases. He backs up to the main path quickly, still holding me, my legs still wrapped around him. He puts me down; "Did you just hear that?" He whispers.

I hadn't heard anything. 'Course, I was otherwise occupied; so my stunning response is: "Huh?"

"It sounded like footsteps behind us..." he says, peering into the darkness. "Fucking burnt out streetlamp! I pay the city a huge amount in taxes goddamnit!- you'd think they'd fix the streetlamps around here!... Wait- shh! There - again! Did you hear that?" 

I can feel his hackles are up but honestly I still didn't hear anything. "Brian, jeez- you're so jumpy all of a sudden! You don't spook this easily! So *what* if there are footsteps? So someone else is walking home too- it's not like it's the bogeyman or something!" 

Though his back is still stiff, Brian sighs. "Okay. Yeah. I know, I know- I'm being stupid. I don't know what's wrong with me. Must be the fucking E- who knows what shit was in that tab; God, now I have to find a new dealer aGAIN- first I have to replace Anita, then have to repla-..." His head whips around like he hears something else. "Look, whether I'm paranoid from drugs or not Justin, let's just go! I don't have a good feeling stopping here for some reason. Something is wrong..."

Having heard nothing, I just turn and look at him... his face, alert and suspicious, is illuminated by the waning moon- Jesus, he is so ethereally beautiful, my breath is taken away. "Sure, Bri." Yeah, sometimes the drugs get Brian somewhat paranoid; but I think he only took a half tab of E tonight - that I saw anyway. I never know. But besides the paranoia, he's not acting tweaked. Regardless, if he says he hears stuff, thinks we're being followed- I figure it's better to go along with it. 

He pulls me with him; there's a weird sense of urgency to his step, his arm is around my shoulder as he starts to lead us towards the loft. I put my arm around his waist-- and I'm suddenly shoved from behind - Brian catches me easily. "Hey!!! What the fuck!" Brian yells, swinging around and pulling me behind him to protect me.

"Brian!" I shout. 

There's some guy there- I can barely make out his face - but that's not what I'm focusing on. I'm looking at the gun. The huge gun that he holds up to Brian's head. Brian shields me further, backing up. My heart is pounding like a triphammer and I lay a hand on the small of Brian's back; I don't know why- maybe just so he knows I'm there with him. I can feel the warmth of his skin through the wifebeater. 

The mugger keeps the gun aimed right in Brian's face and grins. 

"Look, asshole, here's my wallet- take it!" Brian slowly moves his arm towards his back pocket so there are no sudden gestures.

"Don't move! I don't want your motherfucking wallet, you shit!" Then he leers and looks at me. "I want what's in your boytoy's back pocket." 

I gasp.

Brian doesn't cringe; instead, he looms over the gunman in a threatening manner like a mother bear protecting her cub- the mugger licks his lips nervously and adjusts his grip on the piece in his hands, moving his arms so that the gun is now aimed at me; Brian turns to me briefly "Justin- duck behind me! Justin! Protect your face!" 

"First you need to protect your ass, blondie!"

Brian continues to try to back us away from the creep, who is slowly following, a malicious grin on his face. I keep peering over Brian's shoulder to see what the guy is doing. Brian turns his head and glares at me. "Duck down behind me, Justin! Fuck! Stay fully behind me!" His voice is a soft angry hiss, but there's an undercurrent of fear that I can hear. The gunman is watching Brian's face while his gun remains trained on me; it's like this is what he expected, what he wanted. It's evil.

"Aw. Brian Kinney loves his blond boy ass. Willing to die for him, even. Who'd have thought?" Brian starts to make a move on the guy.

"No! Brian, no!" I try to move out from behind him to stop him and I firmly grip his hips hoping I can hold him back; I find that I'm crying. But Brian won't let me move away as he shields me with his body. And he's stronger than I am. 

But he does pause. "Justin..." he whispers, loving, desperate, scared. I take his hand which is behind him to keep me protected. He interlaces his fingers with mine and gives it a squeeze.

"Both of you: shut the fuck up now! And quit holding hands like scared little schoolgirls!" He leers. I pull my hand away when he gestures with the gun suddenly, like he's going to shoot Brian's arm. He smiles. "It's YOU I'm here for, Kinney." My soul lurches at his words. "But I think I want to have some fun first. You, blondie- or, Justin, isn't it? Brian Kinney's little bubblebutt, right? Turn around so I can see that ass- then drop your pants and bend over. You, Kinney," he motions towards Brian's face with the gun, "face down on the cement!!! But head up so you can watch me rape your little beautiful boy's luscious hole!"

My heart skips a beat and seems to leap into my throat. I look at Brian, terrified.

I can only see Brian's partial profile from my vantage point but I can tell that his face is twisted in rage; in one fell motion he spins around, shoves me hard, away from himself and this lunatic and screams, "RUN, JUSTIN! RUN *NOW*!" 

And then everything goes into slow motion. From Brian's push, I land on the ground some distance away from the two and I look up towards Brian. Brian's growling, lunging through the air to tackle this guy, towering over him- then I see the flash of a gunblast which seems to stop Brian right there in midair and then throw him backwards- I'm suddenly sprayed with something warm all over my face, chest and hands- I'm screaming and it gets in my mouth; it tastes like copper. I look down briefly... and it's blood; I look up and Brian's collapsing in a broken heap onto the concrete and the attacker is taking off into the darkness.

Then it all becomes a blur. "GOD- Oh God! No! Nononono!!!!" I feel my heart melt from my body as I run screaming over towards Brian who is laying on the cold cement spluttering and in pain. "Oh, God! Oh, God!" I scream. "HELP!!! SOMEBODY!!!" I cradle his head in my lap, looking down at him as I call 911 on my cell- there's blood pulsing out of a wound on his chest and blood is also dribbling out of his mouth; his face is sweaty yet cold. "BRIAN!! GOD, BRIAN, STAY WITH ME BRIAN!" I'm blubbering and wailing. There's so much blood! "BRIAN! FIGHT! I LOVE YOU! STAY WITH ME!"

His eyelids flutter like he's trying to fight, to stay with me; I grasp his hand and he squeezes it briefly, our fingers interlacing. Then he coughs and a huge gob of blood and tissue comes up and his eyes close; my prayers to God and my begging to Brian's spirit to not give up become internal screams as I wait for the operator- Brian and I have a telepathy and I know he hears me- I know he's trying. I've ripped off my shirt and wrapped it around my hand, putting pressure over the wound but it's directly over his heart and my shirt's soaked through within seconds. The operator finally fucking answers and in a panic, I tell her where we are and she keeps me on the line, giving me instructions what to do- which is basically what I'm already doing. She tries to keep me calm. 

But I'm sobbing, kissing him- his beautiful, beautiful face, covered in blood...; "BRIAN- I LOVE YOU! DON'T LEAVE ME- STAY - HELP, SOMEBODY!!!" I vaguely hear the operator trying to quiet me down and I tell her to shut the fuck up. And then suddenly people are there- "KEEP PRESSURE ON THE WOUND! Please help!" I yell at them. Someone pulls me away to have room to help and I do move away slightly but I keep holding his hand, crying. I vaguely hear sirens approaching; I hover and beg and pray and tell Brian in my mind, soul, psyche, heart- my BEING- how much I love him and I beg God to make him be alright. I'm hysterical... my voice is so hoarse that I can't even croak his name anymore but I yell it out anyway, painful and strained. 

My eyes haven't left him - still, it seems sudden when I notice that he's gone completely pale, motionless, and his mouth is slack, his eyes closed with no movement beneath...the paramedics are suddenly there, working on him in a blur around me... I vaguely hear "Sir! Sir! Let go, sir!" My hand is still gripping Brian's. The medic pries my fingers loose and when contact is broken, I scream. 

"No!" I manage, my voice raspy. It's then that I realize that I can still taste his blood... from the splatter of the gunblast. I crawl towards the bushes and vomit until I'm dry heaving. Someone grabs me and pulls me into the ambulance, following the gurney to which Brian is strapped; weak, crying, I watch them work as I feel us pulling away. But I know: it's too late. 

I can feel it. 

Brian is dead.

And I hear a rough and agonized, anguished scream as the ambulance rushes towards emergency. 

The scream is mine.


	2. Ghost.  QAF-style

POV: BRIAN

 

I briefly chase that motherfucking goddamned mugger/rapist shit once he starts running away but he's gone. Still, I'm more grateful than I have ever been... grateful that Justin is safe. I shoved him pretty far from the asshole and me. I jog back towards where we were attacked, and I notice Justin's still here. He didn't run back to the loft. I'm gasping slightly from my mad dash after that fuck. I see Justin crumpled on the ground, unhurt but crying. I get down on my haunches next to him. "It's alright, Sunshine. He's gone. That fucker is gone." No response. "Justin, here, let me help you up." I reach out a hand to pull him up and into a hug- but then I notice that he's holding onto...

Is that me?? 

As my hand moves to touch Justin, it passes right through him. What the fuck?! 

And that IS me Justin is holding! He's yelling at me to hang on, and he's screaming for help- then I look at myself, bleeding, convulsing- and suddenly still. 

No way.

Dead? 

DEAD? 

Uh uh. No.

Again I reach for Justin; I yell at him that I'm okay- but my arms pass through him and he can't hear me... I look down at myself- not the person in Justin's arms, but me. Me!- and I look fine. I'm wearing what we went the fuck out in- the black wifebeater and loose white overshirt, the tight black jeans; but then I look at the body that Justin is crying over, screaming over... and it's the same clothes, but they're soaked in blood.

"JUSTIN! I'M RIGHT HERE!" 

He doesn't hear me- he just keeps screaming for help and crying. .

"BRIAN- I LOVE YOU! DON'T LEAVE ME- STAY - HELP, SOMEBODY!!!" 

Damnit! "I'M RIGHT *HERE*!!" I yell at him. 

I tell you what- I better wake from this nightmare soon. Fuck! I try to will Justin to shake me awake so I can hold him in bed and forget all about this.

But I'm still here. On the street. Watching Justin cry and beg to no one for my life.

Behind me I feel something warm and I turn around. 

Slowly, a beautiful tunnel of light forms and cascades from the sky; tiny whirls of balled light wash over me, beckon me- good grief, it's like what the tabloids and crap psychics have all said- 'go into the light'. In the back of my mind, I'm amazed that I have the choice to go that direction and that the devil isn't here waiting to give me a nice corner booth next to Hitler. Fuck you, Joanie. If this is real, it turns out that I'm not damned. 

This white light spilling from the heavens is so lovely, so inviting; I reach my arm into it and it's unreal... it's incredible... it's beyond beautiful. It wraps around my soul and is so comforting- and I feel it pulling me away.

But I turn back and I see Justin- he's covered in my blood and crying, screaming, out of control- there are other people now, trying to help. Someone is trying to give me CPR. My heart rips apart at the sight of Justin's pain. He's in complete agony. It's like he's being torn limb from limb, just because of me, because of my... my death. I turn again towards the light that shines down on me and I blink.

And I make a choice. I step away from the light and towards Justin. The light dissipates- I look around to see as the beam funnels away, sucked back into the sky. I'm scared. Then I look back to Justin... All thoughts of the comfort of the light are gone. I watch as some paramedic pries Justin's fingers from mine; I get a sick feeling. Apparently, so does Justin as he is suddenly throwing up in the bushes. I reach out to touch him again but to no avail.

I watch as the gurney is rolled into the ambulance; he gets in and I climb in with him. I try to ignore my own lifeless body that the paramedics are madly trying to revive. And I try to ignore that no one- especially not Justin- can hear or see me. My soul tears like paper as I watch Justin- he's lost it. I've never seen him like this; never. Justin... Justin's gone over the edge. I reach for him constantly just to find that my touches pass through him, transparent, unfelt... although he does seem to shudder when I try to hold him, touch him. But I can't comfort him. I can't... I'm no longer a physical entity. 

I'm dead and it's causing Justin unbelievable pain and I can't help him. Do you know how much that kills me?

Bad analogy.

But it does. Something is weird about me now - I mean, besides the obvious; but it's like I can completely empathize with Justin- I can actually feel the pain he's going through, and it's overwhelming. The sirens overhead continue to shriek. Sunshine just keeps crying over my body, plastered in my blood. I keep trying to hug him, to hold him- it's like I'm fucking unable to learn that I can't do that now. I can't touch him.

And few know this: but I got fucking 1560 on *my* SAT's. Yep- even beat out my genius partner. So you'd think I'd catch on faster, wouldn't you? You know- *he can't fucking FEEL you anymore Kinney, you moron!*

Fine. I get it, okay? 

... I just can't accept it.


	3. Ghost.  QAF-style

POV: JUSTIN- 2 1/2 weeks later

My heart is broken and empty. 

I mean it. I'm not kidding. If a doctor were to open me up, he'd find a broken, hollow heart, a vessel that has caved in upon itself. I barely function- and right now for me, 'function' means that I don't need a diaper. That's it. I haven't left the loft in 2 weeks. Not since the funeral and reception. I haven't spoken to the 'family' since that night, either. 

The phone has been ringing for days- the message light is blinking non-stop. Debbie. Lindsay. Emmett. Nothing from Michael. Probably because Michael gets it. How I feel, I mean. With Brian gone, my soul is gone. I snort; if Brian were here, I know that he'd laugh his ass off at that sentiment. Which would get me pissed off at how unemotional he is. Which would get him telling me to lighten the fuck up and stop being such a sap. Which would cause us to get into a big fight... 

God, what I would give to have a big fight with Brian right now. 

But I can't. He's not here anymore.

He's not here. 

He died in my arms. His blood was all over me. It was actually in my mouth, having been splattered everywhere by the gunshot to his heart- the gunshot he died from. The one he got protecting me- the bullet went straight through his body and flayed his back wide open. I sure appreciated hearing that from the doctor. Insensitive bastard.

Brian. Brian. His spirit was- is- in my heart. Since he's been dead, I've felt him... or it's seemed like it, y'know? Eh, you probably don't. But it's felt like Brian's tried to embrace me, hold me, wrap himself around me since I rode in that fucking ambulance... But Brian's gone. He can't. 

God, I long for his arms around me. I long for him. I love him. 

I love Brian. 

I love Brian. 

I think I'm cracking up. 

The cops took all my information. I don't think they thought to do much with it. Since Brian's gay, I'm gay... and presumably, the so called 'perp' is gay, given my report and the fuck's apparent desire to rape me- the cops really didn't seem to care much. Anyway, I haven't heard anything. Horvath's been really persistent; still, I don't think the cops have found anything out. 

Am I surprised?

And hell, would it matter if they had?  
__________________________

 

I suddenly shiver, again feeling like Brian's here somehow, like his spirit is passing through me. I have to get a grip on myself! Fuck! God. 

I get up from the sofa and start pacing. I go over to the refrigerator and open it, not really seeing what's in there before slamming the door. Then I wander into the bedroom and open the closet door, absently pushing Brian's suits and shirts along the metal bar. Even with Brian being a huge clothes horse, it's a sound I never even thought about, you know? Not while he was here. 

Now the sound reminds me of him. He hung so many of his clothes, practically every time he changed he was in this closet scooting the hangers around to find what to wear for whatever occasion. 

So, yeah. Now the sound reminds me of Brian. It reminds me of the first night I met Brian before we went to meet newborn Gus. It reminds me of the first morning I woke up next to Brian- and my very first high protein breakfast. It reminds me of all the mornings of high protein breakfasts and all the mornings of soft, rough, tender, hard, and 'let's try something new' fucks; it reminds me of the thousands of nights he'd come home from work we'd get changed for Woody's and Babylon, or simply get changed to stay in. 

It reminds me of the last night I saw him alive. 

The sound reminds me of making love. It simply reminds me of Brian.

Fuck! 

I hear a sob and realize I'm crying again. 

I put my arms around the many Armani's and Gucci's and Versacci's and whoever-the-fuck else designed the clothes that Brian wore- who cares about the labels?- and fall face first, breaking down into tears as I clasp the cloth against my face to feel it, inhaling deeply, desperately trying to get his scent. It's there- but it's faint; he was too meticulous about laundry and dry cleaning. I want to kick my own ass for ever, ever doing his laundry. I collapse to my knees. Several shirts and suit jackets slip off of their hangers and I pull them with me, listening to the chiming of the metal hangers against the metal bar intermixed with my crying. And I lie down on the floor of his closet, the jingling of the hangers slowly quieting as I sob into the clothing that came down with me; the scent on the fabric mingles with the smell of leather from his prada shoes that I've landed on.

I am: I'm going insane. Brian would kill me if he saw this scene. Well, no he wouldn't. Not seeing how upset I am. If I had the strength right now, I'd go and get the expensive soap, shampoo and lotions he uses- used, goddamnit!- and add it to the rather large and uncomfortable pile of Brian's stuff beneath me as I lay here face first in the closet. Then add to it a whiff of cigarettes and a trace of Beam... or coffee... I could almost recreate Brian.

Yeah. I'm going crazy. And I can't move, even though one of Brian's boots is digging into my gut. I can't move.

\----------------

I apparently fell asleep in this position and as much as I want to get up as I awake, I simply shift the suits I pulled down and the shoes I landed on so that I'm not so uncomfortable. I notice that the suit coats and shirts that I pulled off the hangers are covered in my tears and snot. I think about how Brian would react to this pathetic display- I mean, I'd probably end up a stain outside Brian's window given what I've done to some of his suits and shoes- yet, I would love him to walk in here right now and see me like this and get the full brunt of Brian's wrath. 

But really, that wrath would be a bunch of yelled stupid, hurtful but empty words, possibly even a banishment from the loft for a little while (those kickings-out never worked, but they were sure a pain in the ass), and then we'd end up back together again. 

...Actually, you know what would *really* happen? What would really happen is that Brian would come to me, pull me up and hold me, soothe me. I'd cry on his shoulder feeling his fingers lace through my hair, feeling his warm, strong hand on the small of my back, pulling me to him, pulling me close to his beautiful, strong body. And I'd apologize for what I'd done to his suits and he'd kiss me, kiss my tears from my cheeks and smile, telling me 'fuck the goddamned suits'. That's what he would do. If I were this upset, that's what he would do. And I would slobber and drool and cry all over his shoulder- ruining yet another suit, I'm sure- and love him, adore him, grip him to me so that he could never leave.

That's what would happen. And now I find myself crying again. Because that will never happen again. I drift off back to sleep, praying to dream of Brian.

\-----------------

 

I jolt awake and it must be nighttime, it's so dark. I'm sweating and the only thought that's coherent in my brain as I lie here, groggy and uncomfortable on the floor of Brian's closet is: I can't believe I left him once.

I sigh, my breath hitching in my throat. But I did. I was stupid. I was still in love with him, heart, soul, mind... I loved Brian; I never loved Ethan. Ethan was like a blank canvas... ready for me to paint all sorts of empty romantic notions on. Empty. Something that Brian never has been. Brian shows his love- well... Brian showED his love. In ways that screamed louder than words or stupid Hallmark gestures ever could. The only thing I'm grateful for right now is that I got back with Brian before... before he was killed. I'm grateful that I had a chance to tell him I understood him, that I loved him, that I loved him more than life itself. I'm grateful that he knew that I loved- that I LOVE- him- only him- and always have. I believe he understood that Ethan was a blip- that I never did love him. I only ever loved Brian. Brian. Always Brian. Forever Brian.

But what does any of this matter now? Brian's gone. Brian's GONE. Fuck me. And it's all my fault. He was shot to death protecting me. God! 

Brian would be kicking my ass right now; I've become so maudlin. I force myself to get up and I flop onto the bed, curling up under the covers on Brian's side, snuffling his pillow.

It suddenly feels like Brian's here on our bed and I sit bolt upright. A rush of irrational anger courses through me. "You *idiot*! What were you doing??? What were you DOING trying to protect me, you asshole!! Look what you've done! You're GONE! I can no longer hold you, show you I love you, kiss you!!" I yell. Then I totally break down, crying and holding my head in my hands... "I love you, you fuck! You son of a bitch!!" I feel a weird kind of breezy sensation as I wrap myself in the duvet, again curling up on Brian's side of the bed; I sob into his pillow- his fragrance is getting fainter by now, but it still smells like him- that unique scent that is only Brian- and I cling to the pillow and weep. "Aw, Brian...." I choke out, getting that strange breezy feeling throughout my body once more. It's an odd sensation... but familiar. It feels like love... it feels like Brian.


	4. Ghost.  QAF-style

POV: BRIAN

I've been with Justin in the loft since I died- it's been two weeks or so now. He hasn't done much of anything except cry - weep, really- and wrap himself in the sheets on my side of the bed. Or queen out and rip my suits off the hangers and sleep half in, half out of the closet, lying on a heap of my clothes and shoes. He's in such pain, he won't take calls and I know the family is trying to reach out to him; it's ripping me apart. And even though I know- yes- that I can't touch him or talk to him, I can't help myself from continuing to try- try to embrace him, hold him, wrap myself around him- comfort him and let him know that I'm here. At least in spirit. It's so heartrending to hear him call out to me- and it cuts me to the quick that he can't hear me calling back as I stand or lay right next to him.

Right now, he's sleeping fitfully - I'm amazed he can breathe; he's buried his face so deeply into my pillow that it would seem to defy his ability to inhale. The pillow is soaked with his tears. I again try to touch him, to gently stroke his back, to comfort him, but my hand simply disappears into his body, no contact, nothing. 

I'm startled by a knock at the door. Justin continues to sleep. There's another knock, louder this time, and Justin is jarred awake. He sits up, his eyes are puffy and red; he swipes his nose like a little kid. God, in some ways, he is still like the 17-year-old boy I found on Liberty Avenue; in more ways, he is such a man- more man than I have ever encountered. Justin groggily looks at the door, apparently wondering if he dreamed the knock. When the knock comes again, he scoots off the bed, runs his fingers through his beautiful, unwashed hair and pulls on some sweats. He's always naked when he's in the loft now- I wish he'd done that when I was alive. I've got a hard-on constantly. So does he, it seems- even when he's crying into my pillow. Sometimes especially so. 

This is so bizarre. So wrong. So wrong because we need to be together. We need to be touching each other...

Justin goes to the door and moves to slide it open- 

"Ask who the fuck it is, you idiot!" I yell in vain, knowing that he can't hear me. 

He pauses. "Who is it?" 

Good.

"Justin? It's Ethan..."

My eyes narrow. Justin's go wide. "Ethan?" He whispers. "What is Ethan doing here?" Yeah, I'd like to know the answer to that, myself. Justin slides open the door and there he is: chin-rat in person. 

"Justin, I heard about what happened- I just thought I'd come by and say how sorry I am. I really am." Ethan moves to hug him but Justin backs away. 

"How did you know?" Justin says quietly.

"There's a huge write-up in the paper- didn't you see it? I thought you wrote it, actually."

Justin looks as confused as I feel. "Oh. No. It was probably Michael who wrote it. I, um. I haven't seen the paper, Ethan. I haven't much left the loft for awhile."

"You haven't left since it happened..." Ethan adds. "At least since the funeral..."

And how the fuck would Ian know THAT? I wonder. But that doesn't seem to occur to Justin; he just nods, looking numb. 

"Listen, Justin, you have to get out... Debbie says you've ignored her and all of your friends' attention."

Debbie talked to him? Debbie hates him!

"Debbie talked to you?" I hear the suspicion in Justin's voice.

"Briefly- I was in the diner. She was my waitress. That's all."

Uh huh. Justin, don't buy it. He's got something up his sleeve.

"Oh." Justin says, shrugging slightly. 

Ethan smiles warmly- and it's so fake, I could throw up. I stand between the two of them but of course, neither can see me.

"Justin, honey,"-- 'honey'?- "I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. And if you need anybody, if you need to talk, I'm here...I know how much you loved Brian."

Justin nods and it's like a cloud passes over his eyes.

"Hey, let's go for a short walk. As I said, you really should get out, you know..."

"Um. No, thanks. That's okay. I'm fine."

"Justin, you have to get out of here- back into life. It's not healthy to surround yourself with the past. It's been a long time..."

"Two weeks, Ethan. It's only been two and a half weeks, now." Justin's voice is quiet, but there's an undertone of anger.

"Yes, two and a half weeks that you've been cooped up in here. Just a short walk. C'mon. You haven't been out except to go to the funeral. It's not good for you."

Justin looks around the loft. "No. I don't think so." 

"Justin, you're alive. Be alive. Come on. Just a short walk."

Justin's shoulders sag. "You're right. I'm sorry. Sure. Just a short walk..."

I sigh. He does need to go out, get out of here, get on with life. I just don't trust Ethan to be the one he does that with.

Justin follows Ian and the door slams before I think to react. What the fuck! I move to open the door and of course the door handle passes right through my hand. Fuck that! I start to walk through the door itself and I can see the other side- but my body feels like it's hardening- becoming 'one' with the door. Becoming one with the fucking door! I pull back and stare at it. What the fucking hell?

I can hear the elevator stop and Ethan's laugh as they exit the building. Fuck this! I throw myself at the door and suddenly I'm through it- I'm in the hallway. Yes!!! I run down the stairs and of course, I'm confronted by another door. I throw myself forward and find myself outside. Justin and Ethan are halfway down the block; I'm starting to get the hang of this ghost thing! Sort of. I jog after them.


	5. Ghost.  QAF-style

POV: BRIAN

I follow Ian- er, 'Ethan' and Justin to the diner; Ian is continually touching Justin as he talks to him- and Justin looks so lost, so pained, he doesn't even seem to notice Ian's overtures. I'm absolutely furious; the fucker's taking advantage of him! They slide into a booth, thankfully opposite each other and not next to each other. I crawl into the booth next to Justin and find myself wrapping my arms around him protectively, even though I know he can't see or feel me. Still, oddly and suddenly, Sunshine seems to be shifting around a lot, gasping and sighing... as though he knows I'm here. When I was alive, he- very subtlely- used to do that when I was near.

This whole situation is throwing me off and I get this sense like something is about to happen. I push it out of my mind.

Ian's fingers are fondling Justin's from across the booth. I look at the shit sitting there and I'm angry as hell. Justin seems to be in a semi-dazed state as Ian smiles and 'comforts' him. The fucker even orders for Justin when the waiter comes by. It sickens me that he knows what Justin would want to eat. I curl around Sunshine more possessively, even though my arms pass right through him. Were I alive, I'd be mortified by my actions. 'Course, were I alive right now, this wouldn't be happening. Ian is ranting about his music career. I'm not listening; I suddenly feel an odd pulsing, and then I hear a strangled hitch in Justin's throat. "Brian...?" Justin whispers suddenly; his eyes are completely glassed over. Surprised at this, I sit up and take notice.

"No, Justin, it's me. It's Ethan. Justin, hon- it's Ethan and I'm talking to you about my music...!" Ian says, startled by Justin's hushed outburst. He reaches over with his other hand to fully grasp *both* of Justin's hands on the table. When Justin doesn't respond, Ian gets condescending; "Oh, Jus- my poor thing! My little Sunny Muse!" 

*(Oh, fuck me!)*

Justin doesn't even seem to notice Ian. His eyes are glazed and far away. I have to admit that I'm concerned. 

"Jus?" Chin-rat-- er, Ian-- er, Ethan, reiterates.

Justin still looks like he's out of it, but he starts squirming and smiling slightly as I 'hold' him - without holding him of course. "Brian? Is that you?" Justin says softly. I continue to feel that pulsing and I'm completely confused. 

'Yes, Justin. It's Brian. I'm here.' I whisper to him. Justin shivers.

"No, sweetheart, it's *me*. It's Ethan." Ian's expression is unsettled. Justin is looking straight ahead, his eyes focused on some inward voice or sensation. I start to wonder if he feels me or something... "Justin! It's ME, Ethan! Snap out of it!" He snaps his fingers in front of Sunshine's face. I want to kill the son of a bitch all of a sudden. "Honey! Justin!"

I get a cold feeling as Justin squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, then opens his beautiful eyes as if trying to unblur his vision. "Ethan?" Justin's voice is tentative as he half-registers the person sitting across from him. 

Ethan nods and squeezes Justin's hands on the table, looking all sympathetic and, quite frankly, creepy. "Yes, Justin." He pauses, a bit cautious. "Justin, are you OK?"

"What?"

"Are you OK?"

Sunshine doesn't even hear that. "Ethan, where's Brian? Where's Brian?"

"Justin, pumpkin... Brian's gone. He's dead--"

"What?" 

"He's dead, Justin. Brian was killed, sweetheart."

"Killed?" Justin repeats, like he's hearing it for the first time. I suddenly feel nauseous. I mean, fuck. Fuck me! Is Justin delusional? I've been holding him- well, more like melding with Justin since we got to the diner. I have to say that Justin's never been like this since that night.

The waiter is suddenly there and plunks the plates in front of Justin and Ethan. Ethan keeps staring intently at Justin. 

"Yes, killed, honey. You were there, Jus. Don't you remember? I'm sorry... but Brian's gone. He's gone forever."

"Brian's gone..." Justin repeats quietly. What is going on here? Justin gets up, holding his mouth like he's about to throw up; he passes through me as he rushes out of the booth and towards the bathroom; I'm up in a flash, following him. He locks the door behind us. After he vomits, I stand behind him as he rinses out his mouth; he's crying and whimpering my name; his are eyes puffy and red- then he looks into the mirror. "Bri... Bri.. Brian? Is that you? Brian???" His tone is of recognition. And I'm lost.

Startled, I stare at his reflection, confused. "Justin?"

He continues to stare at me in the mirror. "Brian!" He swings around and puts out his hands, trying to touch me - but it's apparent he can't see me anymore. "BRIAN!"

"Justin!" 

He keeps groping around, his hands tracing through me desperately, electrifying me with each pass. He cries and whips around to look into the mirror again. And there we are; there we are: his eyes focus on me in the reflection. "Brian... oh my God... Brian..."

"Justin? What is going on? Can you see me?" I'm baffled.

Justin goes up to the mirror and traces the outline of my face. It's like he can hear me, see me. "Brian, yes! Yes! Am I going insane? Brian??? Is it really you I'm looking at?"

I nod, smiling. "Apparently."

"God, Brian... Oh, God. Oh God! Brian, I love you! I love you. I miss you. Oh... Brian..." he looks mesmerized as he traces my lips and then my eyes with his finger on the glass; he sucks in a sharp breath. His finger leaves a slight trail in the dirty mirror. "Brian, I miss you!!" He sobs. 

"Shhhh.... Sunshine, shhhh...." Justin has had tears coursing down his cheeks this whole time; now he starts crying full on. "Justin?"

All he can do is nod. 

"Justin, you can really hear me?"

He nods again, sobbing uncontrollably. "Yes. Brian, I can hear you. I can see you in the mirror. I want to touch you."

Now I find that *I'm* crying. For Chrissakes! I reach for him- but yet again, it's futile. I'm not corporeal- he is. I can't touch him.

He never stops looking at me in the mirror. "Brian. Fuck. Yes, I see you- which means that I'm probably going crazy. ...Brian... Brian..." He whispers. "Brian, I miss you. I miss touching you... How do I touch you?" I've stepped towards him so I'm right behind him. He turns again and tries to cup my cheek but his hand passes right through and it's apparent he can't see me anymore but I feel a beautiful, velvety rush and Justin gasps like he feels the same. Then, his face, red and puffy and pained, falls. He turns back to the mirror where apparently he can see me. "Brian..." He says breathlessly, quietly as tears continually pour down his cheeks.

"Jus... Justin, I don't know how we can touch." My shoulders sag. That's the big question I have, myself.

"Brian?"

I look at him- at us- reflected in this crap-assed diner bathroom mirror, fucked up and red-eyed and confused- me fucking DEAD, Justin ALIVE, and somehow we still are on the same plane, but not. Somehow. Somehow we can see each other in the mirror, hear each other here...

There's a knock on the door. "Hey! C'mon! I gotta go! Whoever's in there, quit fucking or get off the can already!"

Justin looks at me like he's been punched. Then he moves for the door.

"Justin, Sunshine...!"

"I have to go! This isn't real! God. Brian! I'm going insane!!"

"Justin!"

I can't tell if he hears me or not; but he unlocks the bathroom door, pushes whoever the fuck it was at the door back and bolts past the booth where Ethan sits. 

"Justin!" Ethan calls after him. "Stop!"

Justin tears out of the diner like he doesn't hear him- Ethan leaps up and flies after him.

I do, as well.


	6. Ghost.  QAF-style

I've been working on this story a lot- some chapters I'm happier with than others, but anyway, bear with me. It goes somewhere (some refs to the movie Ghost, but really it's my own story, so don't expect this to be a replica of the movie in any way. AND: the mirror question will be answered, so be patient!) :) OH: and overall there's major character death (Brian so far)- no one else for some time yet. I'll try to post more often now that the holidays are over- still, busy busy... I'll do my best! 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

POV: JUSTIN

"Justin!" 

It's Ethan. Chasing me. 

I'm reeling, running in the cold, drenching rain. Did I even know it was raining? Ha- no, because I'm going *insane*! I just saw and spoke with Brian in the bathroom at the diner. It was *him*. It was *Brian*. Brian is fucking DEAD!!! 

I snort as rain, tears and sweat stream down my face; the phrase from The Sixth Sense occurs to me. "I can see dead people." Ha ha. Hilarious.

Ethan gets lost behind me; he's not very athletic. I huff through my tears- like I'm in any better shape. I know that were I running from Brian, I'd have been overrun blocks ago. If, of course, he'd chase me. Partly because he's a runner and partly because his legs are about a mile long. Anyway, I suddenly stop, sputtering through the cold rain that pounds my face. I want him to catch me. I want Brian to catch me. I get that weird breezy feeling suddenly and I freeze. What IS that? I feel it all the time since Brian died. I don't get it.

"Brian?" I venture hopefully.

Nothing. 

I sob. "Brian..." I say softly. I start to trudge back to the loft, almost wishing someone would attack me. Kill me. I walk slowly, avoiding where it happened. You know.... where Brian was slaughtered by some crazed fuck. I can't get away from the drowning rain... which is fine. Just fine. It fits my mood. As I walk, I find myself in something of a daze. Missing Brian. God. I miss him. I miss him so much.

In my dazed state, I vaguely hear someone run up behind me. "Justin?" 

I flinch.

"Justin, hon... it's me. It's Ethan."

"What?"

"It's me- it's Ethan!"

Aw, fuck. "What do you want??"

"Justin, you're acting really strangely. It's upsetting me. It's like you've lost touch with reality."

"Well, maybe I have. What do you care? I don't. I'd be fine going insane. Then the reality of Brian being killed and dying in my arms would fade away and I'd live in my own little happy fantasy land." I shiver from the cold rain and walk faster, not caring if Ethan keeps up or not. I wince at the inadvertent recollection of the taste of Brian's blood that night.

"At least now you seem to know that Brian's dead." He mutters.

I swing around to face him, furious. "Yes, I know he's dead!! As I just said, he died in my arms! I was covered in his blood, Ethan! He was shot to death protecting me! How could I not know he's dead, Ethan?"

"Well, just a moment ago in the diner, it seemed you didn't remember Brian was gone...." He's struggling to keep up with me.

"So, I'm going crazy, Ethan! Guess what? I just saw Brian at the diner! In the bathroom! He was there with me!" Ethan looks at me oddly. My anger rises. I just wish he'd leave me alone. "What the fuck are you doing here anyway, Ethan!? We're history- even with Brian gone, we're history! You were a mistake, Ethan- you already know I never stopped loving Brian! So, while I appreciate any good will and kindness that you're trying to convey to me because of the circumstances, please- just leave me alone!"

Ethan looks shocked but what the hell do I care? Suddenly desperate to get home, I sprint towards the loft, leaving Ethan standing there with his mouth open. I hear him call my name but I don't stop until I get there. I take the stairs two at a time and quickly punch in the alarm code before practically flinging myself bodily into the loft as though it were a safe haven and wolves were on my heels. I fall to the floor, suddenly weak. "Oh, Brian..." I sob. God, am I ever going to be able to function again? Am I seriously going crazy? I mean, I just saw and spoke to Brian- or at least, so my brain says. I just saw and spoke to a dead man. That can't be.

I feel that breezy sensation again- what IS that!? It feels so good! I chalk it up to my going over the edge. 

I shiver as I get up from the floor and pull off my cold, wet clothes, heading for the bathroom. Thunder rolls overhead, rattling the windows. My clothes are left in a trail behind me- I suddenly find myself grinning despite myself; Brian would have killed me for doing that. He hated that. I grab my toothbrush and look up- and nearly collapse.

"I really hate when you do that, you know." Brian's pointing at my clothes, smiling and talking to my reflection.

I swing around but no one's there. Slowly, I turn back to the mirror. I see that Brian's standing right behind me, a smirk on his face. He goes to put his arms around me but they pass right through my body. I get that breezy, velvety soft feeling again and realize that the thousands of times I've had that sensation since Brian was killed, it was Brian touching me. I start crying again- I can't help it. He's here... Brian's here, and he's been here. With me. 

"I just wish I could touch you..." He whispers in my ear. "Justin, Sunshine, don't cry... I'm not worth all this that you've been putting yourself through..."

I hear a broken sob. And. It's mine. I cover my face. "Brian! Yes, you are! Everyone is practically comatose since you were killed! And I feel like my heart's been ripped out!"

I get that sensation again and look into the mirror to see him try to hold me again. It just makes me cry harder when I see his frustration that he can't. "Fuck!" He exclaims. "Even though I can't touch you, I can't stop trying to..."

"I..." my voice hitches. "Brian, I don't want you to ever stop trying to touch me. I can feel something when you do, you know. It's like a warm summer wind, like a breeze flowing through me- it's velvety, soft, beautiful. I've had that feeling practically continually since you died. I didn't know what it was until now. You've been touching me..." 

Brian's angry expression dissipates and he smiles. "Yeah. Even dead I'm a horny bastard."

I manage a small smile through my tears. "Thank God. Can you still get it up?" 

He grins. "With you walking around this loft naked for the last two weeks, I can't seem to get it down!"

I actually laugh. I haven't laughed since the night it happened. Yeah, tears are still running down my cheeks, but Brian actually made me laugh. "Glad to know I still affect you."

"You definitely still affect me."

I get serious. I step towards the mirror. "Brian?" I say tentatively, tracing his features on the smooth glass. He steps closer to me- I pretend to myself I can feel his breath on the back of my neck. "Brian, you still affect me. You will always affect me."

Brian smirks. "I know I still affect you- you fucking jerk off more than a horny teenager as you look at that picture you took of me at Christmas. And you sketch me more now than you ever did. Some might say you're obsessed with me, Sunshine."

I blush, realizing now that he's watched me for the last two and a half weeks. And I would say that yeah, I am obsessed. I smile. "Maybe." I pause. "Brian?"

He quirks an eyebrow.

"Bri, am I going crazy? Why am I seeing you? Why am I seeing you now?"

He sighs. "No, you aren't going crazy- it's really me. Or whatever I am now- spirit, ghost- I have no clue. And I don't know why you can suddenly see me now. Or why only in the mirror. It's not like I haven't been in here with you. Maybe it was simply meant to happen today or something."

I stare at him. "Brian, you don't think I'll suddenly stop being able to see you, do you?" 

His arms move to hug me and I revel in that feeling it gives me- that whooshy, soft feeling always felt good, but now that I know what- rather, who- it is, it's nearly orgasmic. "I don't know, Sunshine. I don't know."

"God, Brian-- I long to hold you... feel you... feel you inside me."

"Me too." He whispers. "Me too."

I snort quietly. "You know that now I'm going to either have to plaster the walls of the loft with mirrors, or I'll never leave the bathroom again." 

Brian smiles. "And people said *I* was vain..."

I turn around to lightly slap his shoulder and am faced with: air. Oh, right. Then there's that feeling again and I smile sadly. He's here. But he's still dead. I turn back to the mirror in time to see his arms drop helplessly to his sides after hugging me. I give him a look to let him know I see him, feel him, love him. 

"You were vain, Brian. You *are* vain. But you deserve to be. Death becomes you. You're as hot as ever. You're absolutely beautiful- kind of glowy or something. I wish I could touch you, kiss you, run my hands all over you..."

Brian smiles softly. "As I said before, me too. Me too, Sunshine."

"What's it like?"

"What? Being dead?"

I nod. 

He laughs bitterly. "Well, I'm dead. It sucks. I can't touch you, fuck you, hold you, wake up with your arms around me and your fucking legs all tangled up in mine. I used to hate that too, you know."

I smile.

"I can't wake up to you staring at me like a lunatic as you always do- er, did. Even though I'm with you all the time, I can't interact with you. Well, until now." He rakes his fingers through his hair. "It's hard, Justin. It's kind of lonely. Scary." He admits.

I look at him and I go to the mirror and kiss Brian's image- starting with his beautiful coral flushed lips and then I trail kisses down his torso, still clothed in what he wore that night. God, I love this man. Finally, I stand; I'm crying. Fuck! Brian's expression in the mirror is of complete sorrow, sadness and love. He sighs heavily. "Don't be lonely, Brian. I'm always here for you."

After a few moments... "Justin, about Ethan..."

I suck in a breath. "Brian, that was nothing- I'm not going back to Ethan! I'm never getting involved with anyo--"

Brian smiles and taps his finger on his lips in a gesture to silence me. "No, Justin, I didn't think you were- but hell, it's not for me to say who the hell you see. It never has been. But especially not now- I'm dead."

I shut my eyes hard in exasperation. Like anyone could follow Brian! But I bite my lip and don't say anything.

"I was going to say, I don't trust Ethan. I just don't. That's all- I can't tell you what to do or not to do, I just wanted you to know that I don't trust him. And it has nothing to do with the fact that you left me for him." I wince. He smiles at me, and there's nothing accusing or mad or unhappy in his eyes. Just concern. "Just be careful, Sunshine."

I take a deep breath. "It really *was* kind of weird that he showed up here. And that Debbie talked to him. She hates Ethan."

"Now, go take your shower. Take care of that stiffie you've been pointing at me. I want to watch."

My dick jumps; Brian snorts having seen it twitch. "Take care of yours with me..." I breathe.

"You know it..." He grins wickedly. "I think you definitely should get a mirror for the shower."

"Definitely!" I say emphatically. "But at the moment, I think I'll take care of my SECOND stiffie in the shower. I think this one needs immediate attention." I lick my lips and stroke myself. Brian raises an eyebrow and leers at me. He unbuttons his jeans and begins stroking himself in time with me. "Fuck, Brian... I wish my hand were your expert lips around my cock, sucking me, the tip of my dick hitting the back of your throat." My hand moves faster and I use my other hand to fondle my balls. Brian does the same, his breaths getting faster. Pre-cum is leaking profusely from my slit and it slicks my hand as it moves over my shaft. I watch Brian through heavy-lidded eyes and know that I'm not going to last long. God I've missed him- just seeing him makes me want to come- watching him fuck his hand is too much. I scream as I feel my orgasm rip through my body, wave after wave of cum shoots out of me and splatters onto the mirror, hitting Brian's image as he goes over the edge at the same time, yelling out and nearly losing his balance. God, it's so beautiful to watch Brian come- his face gets euphoric, angelic, irresistible- yet still animalistic and raw. I've missed seeing that so much.

I steady myself against the sink, savoring the last shudders of my orgasm. As I come down, a voice in the back of my head nags at me. This can't be happening. Brian's dead. How can I see and hear my dead lover? I must be insane. I suddenly get that breezy feeling and look up at the mirror to see Brian 'touching' me. 

"Brian..." I moan.

He looks at me, still recovering from his orgasm.

"Brian, this can't be real."

His eyes get sad. "Well, I'm here. I mean, I'm dead, but I'm here. It's as real as that."

I reach up and put my hand on his cheek on the mirror. "No- you don't get it- I'm ecstatic to see you. I'm just... I mean, seriously- this *is* strange... to see you, hear you... masturbate with you..."

Now he smirks. "Well, congratulations- you're being haunted. And you can see your tormentor." He gestures like he's going to strangle me and I laugh. Then he gets serious. "Justin, I've been dead for two and a half fucking weeks. I've been able to see you, hear you... masturbate with you- " I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, knowing how often I've jerked off to his memory. But he ignores my reaction. "I've had a little time to let it all sink in- as much as such a thing can sink in. You've just encountered me for the first time today." 

I take a few moments to think about it. This is definitely Brian- it's the smirky, smug, beautiful, rude, loving and loved Stud of Liberty Avenue- this IS Brian I'm seeing in the mirror. I couldn't be making him up- I'm not that clever, to be honest. "I wonder if anyone else can see you...?"

Without skipping a beat, he says: "Why don't you call Mikey over? I haven't seen him all that much since the funeral, anyway. I wouldn't mind hearing his annoying whiny voice."

I get the sense that he has visited with Michael more than he's letting on. Still, I smile sadly. "I'm guessing he's not whining much at all lately. Your death really devastated him, Brian."

He rolls his eyes. "Well, all the more reason, I'd say. If he could see me, maybe that'd cheer him up."

"I guess."

"First, take your shower."

A thought occurs to me. "Hey, what does ghost cum look like?"

Brian laughs a little. "Like living cum. I've left ghost cum all over the loft. You just can't see it. Or feel it. Otherwise, you would have slipped and broken your neck by now."

"You don't clean it up?"

"How? I can't pick up a feather let alone a paper towel, you know."

I scrunch up my nose. "So, you've come all over the loft, huh? There's something really gross yet totally hot about that.... You being messy is sexy."

"I'm not messy. It's out of my control." 

"That's what makes it sexy, Brian." I leer at him.

He just laughs and disappears behind the shower door. I laugh too and follow him.


	7. Ghost.  QAF-style

POV: MICHAEL

Justin calls a little after 5. It's kind of a shock, really- everyone's said that he's been completely isolated since Brian's funeral. I've been somewhat the same, to be honest. Isolated, I mean. 

So, I'm up in my old room, going through photos of me and Brian and suddenly my cell rings; the ring is the 1812 overture or something. Brian programmed it in for me awhile ago at Woody's. He'd grinned, shit-faced, and said something about me needing some good old fashioned cultural orgasm music to get me started with Ben- something about Ben would be impressed with my taste and wanna fuck. Honestly, I was four to five sheets to the wind at the time when he grabbed my phone and punched some buttons and lo and behold, that was my new ring. 

I don't remember how I got back home that night. I think Teddy drove everyone. I vaguely recall Brian trying to insist to me, slurred, to take a cab home to Ben and that he'd call me in a half hour and that I'd be royally pounded by Ben because of my new phone ring. I don't know. Neither of us were making much sense but since Brian programmed it in, it stays now, you know? I think everyone spent the night at Emmett's. I have hazy memories of watching Brian and Justin making out; and I was so jealous. But that's nothing new, I guess. When I get drunk, those repressed feelings come back.

Anyway, I digress, as Ben would say. I'm here looking at old photos in my old room and there's the ring that as always, reminds me of Brian. And as I said, it's Justin and he's asking me to come for dinner. To talk about Brian. As surprised as I am, I find myself mumbling that I'll be over. 

After the call from Justin, I take the number 4 bus to the loft, as usual. Sigh: 'as usual'... I get to thinking during the rainy ride.

I've been staying at Ma's since I heard about what happened. Ben says he understands that I'm living here for awhile. I just need to stay somewhere that Brian stayed. And he did stay over a lot as a kid. After he'd get battered by his fuck of a father, he'd show up and Ma and Vic would tend to his wounds, taking him to the hospital if necessary. It's so sick and twisted of me, I know; but I loved those times. I hated that he was hurt, but I loved to see him. I loved him. I still do. I love Brian.

Ben knows the extent and nature of my love for Brian. He understands it. We've never talked about it, but it's there. I'm committed to Ben, of course. I love him. But I've always loved Brian. Always. 

But Brian's gone now.

Right now, I kind of have mixed feelings about Justin. I mean, I know Brian's death wasn't his fault- Brian would have protected a total stranger the same way he did Justin. Well, maybe not the *same* way. He was downright reckless from what Justin described. So, yeah, fine... I know it's not Justin's fault. But my sometimes very vocal irrational side finds it's hard not to lay some of the blame on him. He was always causing Brian pain- not leaving him alone, then leaving him altogether, then moving back in, then getting him fired-- and then, of course, getting him killed. I know, I know- as I said, not really. But I was there that night at Babylon when Justin insisted they walk home. Justin wouldn't let up about it. Brian finally relented like he always does with the kid and told me to take the 'Vette to Ma's. 

Yeah, yeah; Justin couldn't have known they'd be attacked on the way home. But still... this is my irrational side talking, remember?

I've been crying non-stop since that night. So has Ma. Everyone has, actually. People have stopped by - Ted, Emmett, some colleagues of Brian's. Ted and Emmett were wrecks. Yes, even Ted.

So, I'm all moody and morose and kind of pissed off when I get to the loft; just as I'm about to knock on the door, I hear Justin laughing. Then he says something I can't make out. Is someone else here? Is Justin actually laughing? Brian's not even cold and Justin is already laughing with someone? IN Brian's LOFT?? I pound on the door, furious.

Justin slides it open, grinning. "Hi, Michael!"

"You did call me over, didn't you? Are you entertaining someone?" I'm huffing and petulant but I don't care.

He looks at me, confused. "Yeah, of course I asked you over. And no, no one else is here. Just me. Well, I mean..." he looks at me quizzically. "Michael, is something wrong? Are you angry with me for some reason?"

I push past him. "I just heard you laughing and talking to someone. And you seem to be in a good mood. Brian just died, Justin!"

"Oh! Um. I had the TV on."

Liar.

I look around the loft, but I don't see anyone. I glance into the bedroom. The bed's unmade and the sheets are all twisted up. On Brian's side, I see. A bunch of Brian's suits and shirts are crumpled on the closet floor. What the fuck is going on around here? I stomp into the living room and head towards the door, just then noticing a trail of wet clothes on the floor leading to the bathroom. The place is a wreck- I'm getting out of here. It's too weird.

Then I notice Brian's big full length mirror leaning against the kitchen island, facing the stove, as though Justin's watching himself cook. "What the fuck's up with the mirror?" Has Justin cracked up or something?

Justin blushes a little. "Um. Nothing. I was just.. um..."

"Jesus. I thought Brian was vain..." I pass it on my way to the fridge for a bottle of water. "What the fuck...?" I just felt a kind of pleasant whooshing pass through me. I freeze there then I shake it off.

Justin rushes over to me. "So you see him in the mirror too?"

Huh? "What? Who? What're you talking about?" I glance into the mirror. "I see me and you in the mirror, Justin. What's going on?"

Justin's shoulders sag. "Nothing."

"What? Seriously, Justin, what's going on here? Brian's suits are in a heap on the floor of his closet, his bed is all fucked up, there's a trail of wet dirty clothes towards the bathroom, you have his mirror up here, propped against the kitchen island, you're asking me if 'I see him too'-- what the fuck???"

Justin looks around and gets a bemused expression. "I haven't really been noticing how the loft looks or things like that. Listen, Michael, I'm sorry for the way everything looks. But you really don't see anyone but you and me in the mirror?"

"Justin, I think you've cracked up."

"Michael, please- if you promise not to lock me up in a rubber room, can I tell you something?"

Again I feel that whoosh sensation. I lean against the counter, suddenly needing to catch my breath. 

"Can I?" He repeats.

I nod, suspicious.

"I can see Brian."

Oh for fuck's sake! "What the hell are you talking about!? Who are you now- Haley Joel Osment?"

He snorts. "Michael, it's true. I can see Brian. But only in the mirror. I can hear him, too."

"What, you mean you think your reflection is Brian? You're crazy, Justin!" Then I notice the knife in Justin's grip and worry that he really has cracked up and that he's going to do me in. I move to leave and he grips my arm. I eye the knife worriedly.

He follows my stare and kind of laughs, putting it down. "It's for the vegetables, Michael. Not you. What I'm saying is that I can see him AND me. In reflections. I can see him...!"

"You mean, like a ghost?"

Justin nods.

"You're nuts!" I huff and again head towards the door.

"Stop! Michael, Brian tells me that the night after his father's funeral, you and he played some red neck freaks at the bowling lanes his dad used to take you to!" I stop in my tracks. Justin's voice is desperate and his words are rushed. He then pauses like he's listening. "He says you guys won- he says the fucking fairies won!" Then he pauses again and looks sad. "Brian says that, after the game, he parked the Jeep, bowled his father's ball down the rain-drenched street, dressed in his dad's bowling shirt- it was freezing- and then you held him." Justin inhales sharply with emotion, then continues. "He says that you held him while he cried- cried for the first time since his father had died. You held him while he cried for that 'worthless motherfucker, Jack'." Justin swipes his eyes. "Those are his words."

I'm frozen in place. Justin wasn't there for any of that. And there's no way in hell that Brian would have told him about it. I turn around. "How do you know all of that?"

"Brian told me. Just now. He says that, at the reception earlier that day, no one had something nice to say about his father- even though Claire was sobbing and begging people to relate something nice about 'Daddy'. You were the only one to pipe up- like the true best friend that you are. And you told a story about his father taking you two bowling. He says that, needless to say, you remembered that day through rose-colored glasses- you remembered Jack praising Brian and hugging him after he bowled a strike. He says what really happened was that YOU hugged him- and Jack came over and called you a couple of fairies..." Justin pauses again. "Aw, Brian..." he whispers sympathetically. "He says he then pushed you so hard you fell down and he ran... scared."

I look at him incredulously; Justin looks unbelievably sad. 

Justin pauses for a moment. "He also says that when you and he were kids..." Justin's demeanor changes as he appears to be listening to 'Brian'. His face scrunches up and he laughs. "Ew, Brian! No way!" He laughs again before continuing. "He says that not long after he met you, you two would have farting contests. He says that you were by far the best farter he's ever met. He says you once farted so loud in American History that the teacher had to stop lecturing for at least 10 minutes because the class was in hysterics."

"Actually, that was Brian." I smile wistfully. "He was always clowning around. Everyone liked him. I couldn't have gotten away with something like that- I wasn't popular enough."

"He's denying your account of events." 

I find myself grinning. "Um, you lived with him. You of all people know..."

Justin smirks into the mirror and nods. "Anyway, now do you believe me?"

"Brian could have told you those stories while he was alive, Jus--"

Justin cocks an eyebrow. "Do you for one minute believe that Brian would tell me any of that stuff while he was alive? Why bother? That's you and Brian. You know Brian. He wouldn't tell me shit like that. None of it- the memories of Jack are too painful; he doesn't talk to me about you two as kids- certainly not a fart story." 

And I know he's right. I wander back to Justin and look into the mirror. I get that breezy feeling again. Justin's look is suddenly somber. "He just hugged you, Michael. He says he misses you."

Tears fill my eyes. "I miss him, too. Can he hear me?" I ask Justin. 

He looks into the mirror and smiles. "Yeah. He can hear you. And he says if you start bawling like a little girl, he'll tell me even worse stories than the fart one."

I grin and the tears spill onto my cheeks. I can't help it. "I love you, Brian. I miss you so much!" I get that feeling again and I know he just hugged me. "Why can't I see you like Justin can?"

"We don't know, Michael." Justin answers. "I've only today been able to see and talk to him. It happened at the diner. I was about to lose it about Brian again and I ran into the bathroom- and there he was behind me- in the reflection, I mean. He didn't realize I could see him until I muttered his name and turned to see him in person. But I can only see him in the mirror."

This is unbelievable! "Why just the mirror?" What a stupid question. Why any of this?

"We don't know- but that's why the mirror's here while I make dinner."

"I... I just don't believe this..." I sputter.

"I know. I thought I was going insane- but those things I told you about you and him, those were true, right?"

I nod.

"He says that you need to move out of your old room and back in with Ben. When did you move out, Michael? Are you and Ben having problems?"

"No, no, no. I just... wanted to be closer to Brian. He spent a lot of time over at the house when we were younger. We spent a lot of time in my old room. There are just a lot of memories, you know?"

Justin nods; he of all people would know. "Yeah. I know. Of course I know. Look at me- I haven't hardly left the loft since it happened." He smiles at me. "Brian says to quit poring over your box of pictures. You're just making yourself maudlin." That cinches it- no one knows that I've been going through our old pictures, not even Ma. I put them all away every time I leave the room and I lock my door when I'm in there. Justin pauses and snorts. "He also says 'You're pathetic, Mikey'."

"That sounds like Brian alright." I grin. "God, even from the other side, he's the king of snark."

Justin grins back. "I know. Isn't it great?"


	8. Ghost.  QAF-style

POV: BRIAN

Well, this has certainly been one fucking kick in the head day, hasn't it? So, we've established that only Justin can see and hear me. Mikey can sense me, but that's all. Michael luckily didn't *totally* queen out on Justin when Justin told him he could see me in reflections- it helped that I was able tell him stuff about Michael and I that only Mikey and I would know. I knew Mikey would trust that those things between him and me were kept between him and me- until now, of course. Now, I simply told Justin out of necessity.

That Justin can see and hear me is both comforting and unsettling at the same time. After what felt like such a long time of drifting through the world alone and unseen, trying to touch Justin as he cries into my pillow, trying to call out to him to comfort him- to suddenly be visible to him is somehow weird. 

Justin and Mikey seem to be fine now and when they start working on preparing dinner, I feel compelled to leave the loft for awhile. I hear Justin call for me, but I keep going. I just need to be alone for a bit. I find myself in the park; it's raining but I obviously don't feel it; but I appreciate the gloom anyway- it's good and somber. It fits my being dead and all. Ha ha. I dig my hands into my pockets and wonder at my dilemma. What will happen? Will I wander Pittsburgh for eternity? If that's the case, I've gone to hell. But I'll do it if I get to at least see and talk to Justin.

I sigh, thinking. Knowing Justin and his stubborn nature and his even more stubborn and foolish love for me, he's never going to leave the loft again now that we've seen each other. That, or he'll carry a compact around like a drag queen so he can see me in the reflection. He'll never get laid- he'll subsist on masturbating and take out. "Aw, Justin..." I murmur to myself. It's not the life he deserves. Hell, even when I was alive, he didn't have the life he deserves.

"That's not true, Brian. You two were made for each other." I'm startled by the voice and I turn around. And there, standing in the rain- also not getting wet- is Jason Kemp. "I've heard a lot about you. You're a legend both alive and dead, Brian. And I can see you for who you really are. You and Justin were good together. ARE good together."

"Are you reading my mind?"

"Yeah. That's one of many powers you'll have. Typically not for awhile- for most, it takes several months to read minds alone. But you..." he appraises me. "Actually, you are decidedly different, Brian. It might be quite soon for you. You are an exception to the rule on this plane. Quite the exception, to be honest."

Whatever the fuck; I ignore that. Since this is the first fellow ghost I've encountered, I figure that I may as well start with the big questions. "What is happening?"

Jason approaches me and puts his hand on my shoulder. And I can feel it! I haven't felt a real, solid touch since before I died. My cock twitches but I will it down- it's just a visceral reaction because I'm normally such a touchy feely person and I haven't felt real contact with another since that night. Jason grins at me knowingly, hopefully only reading my mind. "I know- that happened to me too the first time I felt a solid touch after I passed. But Brian, for you I can tell it must be horrible to not touch- you're such a tactile person. Plus, not being able to hold Justin must be very frustrating."

"You can say that again. I do feel a warm, breezy sensation when I touch or hug or try to hold onto Justin or my friends. With Justin, the feeling is the strongest. He says he feels it too- he says it feels wonderful. Same with Mikey. And I've noticed that for each person I've touched - which is obviously just my friends and family at this time- everyone has a slightly different vibration, sensation, *feel* to them." 

Jason smiles. "For you, it is. Not for other any other ghost but you, Brian. You're the only one. It's part of what I was saying earlier about you being 'quite the exception' to the rule on this plane. That breezy feeling you share with the living - you will probably find it's not only your friends and family- that's your spirit brushing with the spirit of the living individual- every spirit has its own vibration, so that's why you sense differences in each person you touch. No one else here can transcend like that. 

"Anyway, Brian, there's unfinished business for you to deal with. When a soul chooses not to ascend into the light, there's something unresolved that they have to take care of before they move on into the light."

"Unfinished business? That sounds like something from a bad movie."

"Well, it's true. In fact, you're the last bit of unfinished business for me."

"Me? Why me?" I shake my head. "I don't even know you!"

"Well, you helped me and now I'm helping you. Then I'll leave."

"How on earth did I help you? You were dead before I even knew of you!"

"You found my killer. You and Justin found Reikert. And you stopped Stockwell from covering up my murder. And I had my name again- I was no longer 'Dumpster Boy'. That was my unfinished business. And you stopped Stockwell from becoming mayor- that was an added perk. That guy was bad news." He looks down and then faces me again. "When I knew you were going to die--"

"Wait a minute." I interrupt. "You knew I was going to die?"

He nods. "Believe it or not, I have a strong psychic connection with you- I have ever since you took on my cause, ever since you took on Reikert. So I got the sense that your time was near several weeks ago, a few days before it happened. I tried to find a way to protect you, but when I saw you and Justin walking home from Babylon that night, I knew there was nothing I could do." He sighs. "Nothing but watch it happen. And wait for you here; I avoided going into the light again to wait for you." 

"Why?"

"Because I want to help you. You helped me. I'm sure this is all pretty overwhelming. Lonely. Scary. I just want you to know there are others of us. And help you understand the exceptional situation you and Justin are in. You'll learn to read minds. You'll learn to be telekinetic, too. For most, that takes being taught and months and months- for you, I suspect you'll be able to do it without being taught quite quickly."

"Telekinetic?"

He pauses, puzzled by my comment. Then he laughs. "What I mean is that you'll be able to move objects that are on the living plane- you know how you say you can't move a feather there now- well, with telekinesis, you can do a lot more than that. Some can do it. I haven't gotten the hang of it, even though I've been here for months now. But I'm not here much longer, so I haven't bothered to continue trying to learn. Some don't even need to be taught- they can just do it. I suspect you'll be one of those, and I suspect you'll be able to do it shortly, whereas most take quite awhile to learn it. 

"Brian, you're already gifted. All the abilities a ghost can develop and how quickly they develop them have a *lot* to do with love. In your case, primarily for Justin and vice versa. That's why I keep telling you that you'll be developing all these powers much more quickly and powerfully than others on this plane. Because of that love you share with Justin."

I ignore the love shit and move on. "Is Justin safe? Is Mikey? The other people I care for? And who killed me?"

Jason looks at me sadly. "I'm sorry, Brian; I can't tell you any of that- that all involves fate and having foreknowledge and you specifically aren't allowed to have that."

"I, Brian Kinney, specifically am not allowed to have that? That's fucked! Every other dead shmo can have it but not me?"

"Shh. Brian, you're getting ahead of me- slow down. Come here." Jason takes his hand from my shoulder and leads me over to a park bench. He sighs. "Let me tell you why you and Justin are so exceptional now. You are very, very lucky."

I snort. "Yeah, I'm so lucky, I'm dead!" 

"No, you aren't fully- I mean, your living body is dead- but your soul still works on the spiritual plane--this plane -- in a corporeal manner, which is why I can touch you and you can feel me as though you're alive." He leers at me. I ignore that, annoyed. "Everyone's soul here appears as it did on the living plane. So- you got your wish; you'll always be young, and you'll always be beautiful."

"Fuck you, Jason! Nice touch to quote Mikey from the night I almost killed myself scarfing and the night before Justin nearly died because I went to his prom."

He looks contrite. "I'm sorry- that wasn't on purpose, Brian. But, um- an aside here: Brian, Chris Hobbs had planned to bash Justin no matter what that night. You being there actually saved Justin's life. And by being there you also saved Daphne from living the rest of her life in a wheel chair."

I'm a little taken aback by that and I stare at my feet at the revelation. Jason has to lift my chin to get my attention again. "Brian, that's not what we're here to talk about though... now listen to me, OK? It's important."

I nod and try to focus on what he has to say.

"The love you and Justin had- and still have- is so potent that it transcends death. He can still see your spirit, your soul, *you*. The love you share is truly remarkable. 

"Brian, the last time this happened was over 1,375 years ago."

"Okay. Wait." I interrupt. "Back up. What the fuck is 'this' that happened so long ago? And if 'this' is so fucking rare, how do you know about it?"

"By 'this', I mean the strength of the love you and Justin share being so palpable that you can actually interact through the veil of death- they call it piercing the veil. And I know so much about it because it's the stuff of the myths and legends of this plane. Everyone here has heard of it. Some believe in it. I certainly do now. And many others here do now, too. Because of you and Justin." He smiles. "Seems that no matter where you go, Brian Kinney, you're legendary." He winks at me.

I roll my eyes. 

"In other words, your and Justin's love is stronger than any love has been in 1,375 years- and we can't document prior to that when another couple pierced the veil. No other ghosts can communicate through the veil except you with Justin. Again, you can pierce the veil and interact with Justin because of the strength and purity of your shared love."

Oh, good grief. I can't get away from this 'love' shmaltz even in death. Sigh. "So, why only through mirrors?"

"That will be revealed to you later, Brian. Now, just a few basics: this world is just as real as the living one- it's just different. We don't know how many planes of existence there are, honestly; just that this comes after the living plane and is basically intermediate step if you choose to stay on it to resolve whatever issues you need to from your life. Many also choose to stay awhile. And many more people bypass it altogether, dying and simply going directly into the light."

"Is there a hell?"

"Yes. It's awful when someone goes. I've seen it. When someone who has led a life of being cruel and truly heartless dies, if their core is black, they don't get a choice to use this plane. Instead, minions of darkness come up through the ground and haul their souls away."

I shiver. 

"But Brian, you will be going up." He smiles. "Eventually. Once you choose to. All you have to do is call upon the funnel of light and it will come to lift you up."

I think about all this seeming mumbo jumbo. "I'd have never pegged myself as someone who would end up in heaven. Mom told me I was definitely going to hell."

"Mothers aren't always right. Yours especially."

I rake a hand through my hair. "But there's no piercing the veil from Heaven to the living plane, is there?"

Jason smiles, apparently understanding why I'm asking. "No, I'm afraid not."

"God, I'd never have seen Justin again if I'd gone into the light when I was killed." I mutter- more to myself than to Jason; I shiver at the thought. 

He remains quiet, like he's holding something back.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Brian, that's a matter of fate. I can't tell you about that."

"Tell me about that- you mentioned it earlier. Why am I - alone, singled out, Brian Kinney- not privy to information involving fate and having foreknowledge yet every other dead guy is? And what is the extent of the knowledge that I'm not privy to?"

Jason sighs. "All I can tell you is others on this plane know if something big is going to happen to their loved ones on the living plane, and when it will happen. You know, like a murder, or a train wreck, or a war in which their loved one passes. It's inherent to the spirit's nature once they pass through the veil to be in tune with when that event occurs so they can be there when their loved one passes. Fate dictates that you not have this foreknowledge about your immediate loved ones."

"Fuck fate! Why the hell not?"

"Brian, I can't tell you..."

"Wonderful." I sigh. 

Again, he remains quiet, like he's not telling me something.

I sigh again, frustrated, finding this isn't really getting me anywhere. "Listen, I'm gonna split. It's dark and Justin's probably wondering where..." I shut up. Shit, I sound like a husband who's late for dinner! I think to myself.

Jason smiles, reading my mind (do you know how annoying that is? VERY.) "Yeah- that IS how you sound! Listen, Brian, I'm gonna stick around one more day. If you call me, I'll be right there. Or if you need me, I'll be there." He puts out his hand and I shake it. Again, it's nice to actually feel a body. 

"Hey, Kemp?" 

He smiles again. "Yes, one of the laws of nature for this spirit world is that the spirits can touch as they did on the living plane- you know, like we have today- our handshake, my hand on your shoulder earlier. So if you stay here on this plane until Justin passes, you two will be able to touch again then. One interesting thing I don't know a whole lot about though is, according to the legend of the piercing of the veil, apparently all the sensations shared by the special couple are heightened and special somehow. The legend said that the nature of the sensation was difficult to put into words. So you'll be able to touch Justin and it should be even more intense than when you were both living. That, of course, is based on the one documented example of the piercing of the veil from 1,375 years ago..."

I grin and give him a brief wave before turning on my heel and trudging back towards the loft in the rain and dark. At least that gives me something to eventually look forward to- I mean, I'm definitely staying on this plane till Justin passes- and you know, I never thought I'd think this, but I hope I don't get to touch him again for another 60 years or so. I want him to live for a long, long time. It'll suck wandering around here only able to see and talk to Justin in mirrors for however long, but I'll get used to it. And I haven't really explored the ghost world much- I can 'ghost trick' and at least feel a body. There is something ridiculous about this, you know that?

As I walk back, I think about what Jason said. I shudder with a sudden ominous feeling - a feeling that tells me that Justin isn't safe. I can't shake it- there was nothing Jason specifically said or anything- it's just a vibe I got. And me probably reading too far between the lines of what he said. Still, I can't shake the feeling and I'm going to keep close to Justin. Well, duh. I'd be doing that anyway. I look around and vaguely wonder what time it is and hope that Justin isn't worrying.


	9. Ghost.  QAF-style

POV: JUSTIN

I've been calling Brian for a half hour, but he must have left when Michael and I started making dinner. My gut twists, knowing he's not here. It's the feeling I've had for the last two and half plus weeks. The feeling I've had since the night Brian was killed. The feeling I've had until today. Today, when I finally saw him. When I finally spoke to him. Today, when I felt more relief than I could ever imagine.

"Michael, don't you think you should be heading back? It's getting late and it's raining pretty hard. Do you want me to give you a lift in the 'Vette?"

I put the dishes in the sink and turn, now facing the mirror. It's becoming a decided habit for me to check the reflection and this time, he's there. "Brian!"

"Now that you can see and hear me, Sunshine, let me tell you that you are *not* driving my 'Vette!"

"Why the fuck not? It's not like *you* can drive it!"

Brian sighs. 

"Brian's back?" Michael says. "Complaining about you driving the 'Vette, isn't he?" He chuckles.

"What do you think?" I shoot Brian a glare and finish gathering the dishes. 

"I'll just take the bus, Justin. But thanks. I want to stop by Ben and Hunter's." MIchael says, still snickering.

"It's your place, too, you know."

"I know. I'll move back there soon. Since Brian's obviously been here the whole time and not with me in my old room." He grins.

"No, I've been with you some times, Mikey." Brian says, smiling gently.

I smile. "He says he's been with you too, 'Mikey'." I tell him.

Michael beams at me. "Tell him I've felt him. And that I feel so much better knowing he's ... he's not truly gone."

"Michael, even though you can't hear him or see him, he can hear and see you. Tell him yourself."

"Brian, I love you. Always have, always will. And I'm so glad that you're here. I was going out of my head, I missed you so much. Just knowing you're still here makes my heart want to bust. I wish I could see you."

"I know Mikey. Me too."

"He says he knows, and he wishes you could too." I tell him. "Hey, Michael?"

"What?" He says, pulling on his coat.

"Don't tell anyone about this, okay? It's too weird. No one would understand. Just don't say anything. Not yet, anyway."

"Yeah. Okay. I don't know where I'd even begin to tell someone about this." Michael comes up and gives me a hug- and I'm mildly shocked. He never does that to me. There's always been a weird rift between he and I- all because of his crush on Brian, of course. But maybe that rift is going away now. "That's for Brian." He whispers.

"I can't touch him, Michael."

"Yeah, but you can see him. And he can see me. That hug was for you, Brian," he says into the air. Then he hugs me again. "And that one's for you, Justin. I'm glad he's not all alone. Keep him company, okay? Hey, by the way- how does he look?"

I smile and look at Brian in the mirror. "He's as beautiful as ever. He almost glows." 

Brian rolls his eyes and Michael grins ear-to-ear. "I almost glow?" Brian mutters incredulously. "Good grief."

"Well, at least he'll always be young. And he'll always be beautiful." He gets a wistful look. "Bye, Justin." Then he waves at the mirror. "Bye, Bri."

Michael slides the door shut behind him and I feel that shuddery, breezy, soft sensation; I look at my reflection and see Brian smiling and wrapping his arms around me. "God, Brian, I SO MUCH wish I could touch you for real."

"I know. Me too. It's killing me. So to speak."

I snort. I lug the mirror over to the living room, facing the sofa. I sit and wait for him to join me. "Bri?"

Brian sits beside me but it's strange- his demeanor seems to have changed from how he was before leaving the loft. "So, I ran into someone today." Brian says softly. "As you know, I left when you and Mikey started to prepare dinner." I look at him in the mirror, curious. "Justin we need to talk."

I get concerned and stay quiet.

"I was walking in the park and suddenly someone behind me seemed to read my thoughts. I turned around, and there was Jason Kemp."

I gasp. "Jason Kemp?"


	10. Ghost.  QAF-style

A/N: Thanks for the feedback so far- it really inspires!! 

I guess anyone who has seen 'Ghost' knows that this is no longer based on that movie! ;) I totally got into a world of my own as I was writing this- if it gets confusing, let me know and I can fill you in. Brian as a ghost can mind read, so there are no quotation marks when he's 'telepathing'. And I made all this shit up- I don't know much of anything about lore of the afterworld or ghosts or whatever. As far as I know, I made up piercing the veil, too- LOL Only B/J would pierce something so profound- hee. Thanks again to all who read, and to all who have time to leave feedback! Love you all!

PS: This Halloween, wouldn't it be COOL to be haunted by B/J? (I don't want them to be ghosts, of course, but if they *were*... ;) )

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POV: JUSTIN

"I was walking in the park while you and Mikey were fixing and eating dinner;" Brian says. "And suddenly someone behind me seemed to read my thoughts and he called to me. I turned around, and there was Jason Kemp." 

I gasp. "Jason Kemp?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? It was creepy that he could read my thoughts. He said you and I are good together- I, um, had been wandering around worrying about you."

I smile at him. "Brian, please don't do that- worry about me, I mean. Please. Now that I can see you, hear you- it's so much better than before."

"Yeah, well, anyway, he went on to say that souls who choose not to go into the light--"

"Wait, Brian- you chose *not* to go into the light?"

He gets a sad look and sighs. "Well, you were there screaming, holding onto my body- you were soaked in my blood... I couldn't just leave you there." I feel and see him reach for my cheek with that familiar breezy feeling and then he continues. "He said that souls that choose not to go into the light often have some kind of unfinished business. I think for me, it's finding my killer and protecting you- I just have this ominous feeling about what's going to happen. It's probably nothing. I asked Jason about who my killer was and if you or anyone I know is in danger- he said he couldn't tell me who the killer was, and he said that he couldn't tell me if you or anyone else were in danger or not. Something about me not knowing fate or what's going to happen. I'm not allowed to know. Just me. All other spirits can have this knowledge."

I give Brian a blank look. "You- just you? Why just you? I don't understand..."

Brian stays quiet a minute or so, and I continue feeling his arms around me but not feeling them. "He told me that you being able to see and hear me is rare to the point of being a legend on this- this- on 'my' so-called 'plane'; my plane of existence."

"What? Rare how? And what does that have to do with them singling you out?"

"Well, the last time it happened was over 1,375 years ago or something. He said it's called piercing the veil and it's when souls transcend death and the spirit of the dead partner and that of the living can interact. 1,375 years ago was the last time that happened he said. And no other times have been documented, strangely enough."

I wait for him to go on, feeling somewhat overwhelmed- and confused.

"He wouldn't say why he couldn't discuss fate specifically with me, Brian Kinney, right now, but on my walk back, I thought about it. I think it's because if I know something is going to happen on the living plane, I can alter events and history by telling you about it. I can communicate with the living. Others on my plane can't, so they can know something is going to happen but they can't do anything about it. And what scares me is that he said he couldn't talk about it; that when the time is right, I'll learn more- I just kept feeling like something might happen to you, Justin. I mean, I don't know- as I said, it's just an ominous feeling and I can't see the future and I don't know your or anyone's fate, but I'm just worried. That's all." He sighs.

I look at him intently. "Brian, as I've said before, I think you worry way too much. That sounds far-fetched-- not that I won't be careful of course. But Bri, please don't worry so much. You do this- you get all worried about nothing." 

He smiles weakly. He combs his fingers through his hair and looks away. I can tell he's going to change the subject. "Apparently, according to Jason, piercing the veil only happens when the intensity, the amount of lov... caring between two people is like what we had... er, have. He says it's so potent that it transcends death. He says you can still see my spirit, my soul, *me*." Brian avoids eye contact. 

But I'm suddenly beaming. "Brian, you're already dead. It wouldn't kill you to at least look at me when you say that."

He huffs. "Justin, he also says you won't always be able to see and hear me. Something about how this plane and the living plane - your plane- interact at times. You'll still sense me, but you won't be able to see me."

"You mean permanently?" My heart leaps into my throat.

"No, no. It's just at times. I don't know when. He likened it to the tides going up and down. I dunno, Justin. Just don't freak out if you feel me but can't see me sometimes, 'kay?"

I nod, swallowing. I know I probably will freak out, but I don't say so. Even though I just started seeing Brian this afternoon, I've become quite used to it.

"I know you're used to it, Justin, but it's only a sometime thing."

"Huh?"

"I said..."

"No, I heard you. But I didn't say anything."

He blinks. "What do you mean?"

I didn't say anything, Brian. If you can hear me right now, you're reading my mind. And that freaks me the fuck out.

He smiles at me. "Don't be freaked out, Justin. It isn't like we didn't basically read each other's minds when I was alive." 

And he's right. "You're right." I'm grinning at him. So can you hear me now? 

He laughs. "Very funny, Sunshine."

"I thought a little commercial endorsement was in order. After all, the mirror's blocking the TV."

Brian reaches to hug me again- I've had that wonderful, breezy feeling this whole time, sitting next to him with our hands playing with each other, unable to actually touch but still causing incredible sensations. "I wonder the same thing." He says.

 

I stop to think. "What?"

"You were wondering how we'd have sex."

"Oh. Yeah." I guess I was. "Although, I was thinking of how we'd make love."

He chuckles. "You know, Jason said that someday, we'd be able to touch again."

I jump up at that. My cock jumps too. "We will?"

"With any luck, you'll be an old, old man."

I think about what he's saying. "You wouldn't want me old." I try to keep my voice even, realizing how true that is; suddenly I feel my hair move and I look into the mirror and see that Brian's brushing the hair from my face. He apparently doesn't notice my hair actually moving.

He smiles softly. "Don't be sad, Justin. I'd want you old- it'd be poetic justice, really, to be the young one." 

I stare at him in the mirror. "Brian, you just brushed the hair from my eyes. Brian, you touched me."

He gives me a blank look. "What?"

"I felt my hair move, Brian!" My excitement mounts. Maybe he's coming back from the dead!

"No, Justin. I'm not coming back from the dead." He sighs, having read my thoughts. "Jason talked about this. I must be 'naturally' telekinetic. Most ghosts have to learn how to do it. Some seem to be able to without being taught. I guess I'm one of the ones who know it naturally. He seemed to think I would be. Something about that stupid love thing." I grin. "So, it seems I can make objects move."

"But that also means you can touch me!"

"Justin, not the way you want me to. Not the way I want to..."

I look at him with complete and utter amazement. "Brian, I want you to touch me in any way that you CAN!"

Brian looks at me intensely. "Let me try something..." he whispers. "Tell me if you feel this. Close your eyes."

I don't want to close my eyes, I think.

"I know you don't want to close them, but do it..." Brian says gently. Fuck, he read my mind; "Justin, please close your eyes. Rest your head back against the sofa." I do. And I feel him caress my cheek. I gasp and smile. "Shhhh... Justin, keep your eyes closed." He says quietly. And then I feel a very soft, brief kiss. My eyes fly open. I turn towards the mirror and see Brian over me.

"Oh, Brian... I love you so much..." It's like Brian's alive again! Then I see his energy flagging. "Brian? Brian, are you okay?" His image fades momentarily and I'm suddenly scared. He's breathing heavily. "Brian?" I wait a second, watching him in the mirror. "Brian... Brian? Brian, please let me know that you're okay. Brian!!" One moment ago I was completely elated; now I'm completely frightened.


	11. Ghost.  QAF-style

A/N: BTW, I LOOOOOVE all your reviews- thank you to you all!! I'm so glad there are so many of us who want to keep this site alive- I truly respect the many writers who keep the passion of B J alive, and at the same time, make their stories varied and beautiful, either canon or not to the storyline of the show (or even, sometimes, to the characters). I love this site, and visit it often! 

(And if this story gets confusing, that's because I'm insane- but ask me questions and I'll try to explain!)

Thanks for any review you may have, good or bad, if you have time. :) It's all inspiring!

PS: Gawd. Can I USE more exclamation points?

Thanks, everyone!

_____________________________________

 

I feel my energy flagging and I take a deep breath. 

"Brian? Brian!" It's Justin's voice. 

"I'm okay..." I gasp. "It's just that touching you took a lot out of me."

"Brian, you're fading!"

I look up into the mirror and realize Justin's right, and it frightens me. "I'm alright, Justin. Relax..." Suddenly there's a knock on the door. "Justin, go get the door. I'll be here, okay?"

Justin's expression is panicky but the knock comes again.

"Go, get it." I say, my voice husky and weak. "But ask who it is first."

Justin gets up and heads over to the door. "Who is it?"

"Ethan, Jus." 

Justin looks over at me and then slides open the door. "Ethan! What are you doing back here?"

Twice in one day? I think suspiciously.

"Hey, Jus- I wanted to bring you these from the diner. You were so upset earlier, I thought these might cheer you up."

"Lemon bars-? Ethan, thank you- I appreciate it, really." Justin glances over to the mirror; he apparently can no longer see me. What Jason said is true, I guess. 

"May I come in?"

"Er. Sure, come on in."

"Are you doing better than before, Jus?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I get pretty emotional lately."

"Understandable, Jus. Hey, you want to go to a movie tomorrow night?"

"I'm not really up for that, Ethan. You know. I'm not..." Justin's voice trails off.

"I think it would be good for you, Jus. I really do."

Since when is Justin 'Jus'? I think to myself- and at the same moment, I read Justin's mind and he's wondering the same thing. I laugh and hug him. Justin smiles, apparently sensing me even if he can't see me. "Um. Maybe some other time, Ethan. It's still too soon, y'know?"

Ethan leans in and kisses Justin on the cheek. "Well, you have my number and you know where I live- don't be a stranger, okay?" I get a very weird vibe off Ethan- I can't seem to read his thoughts like I can Justin's, but regardless, I don't like what I'm feeling. Justin smiles weakly and thanks him again for the lemon bars before pulling the door closed. 

"What is *with* that guy?" He wonders aloud. 

"He wants you back, Sunshine. I thought your gaydar was better than that!" But Justin doesn't hear me.

"Brian? Brian are you here?" Justin calls to me. I can only try to hug him since apparently, he really *can't* see me at the moment, even with the mirror. I reach out and focus all my energy into my hand; I caress his cheek. Justin beams. "Brian!" He lifts his hand to his cheek. He goes and grabs my pillow off the bed, then he heads over to the sofa and lies down. "Lie down with me, Brian." He whispers. What a ham Justin is- but I follow him over and lay with him. It's then that I see the tears on his cheeks and I long to be able to wipe them away. "I feel you, Brian. I feel you." Justin hugs the pillow to his chest, then breathes in its scent. Then he closes his eyes and drifts off.  
\--------------------------

Justin wakes up at noon- fucking slacker! "Brian- I can see you again!"

"Mm hmm. You know, since I croaked, you've been sleeping too much. You never would sleep 'till noon when I was alive!"

He grins. "That's because a certain asshole I know would take the alarm clock and put it on the floor of the bedroom out of my reach!"

"Oh? And who was this? And if you are talking about me, it's not wise to speak ill of the dead."

"Oh yeah? What're you going to do- haunt me?" 

I move to tackle him but of course, I realize too late that it's futile. I shake my head in frustration. "God! I want to touch you!"

Justin smiles sadly. "I want you to, too. At least now I can see and hear you again." Sunshine pauses a few moments. "Hey, Brian? I think I'm going to go see Mysterious Marilynn. She might be able to help us..."

"That old bat? She's just a delusional drag queen."

"No she's not! Michael told me how she predicted all that shit that happened to you when you guys came to get me in New York City! He said it was creepy but cool!"

"Yeah, well, Mikey's a delusional drag queen himself."

"Come on!" Justin begs. "Let's go!"

"No."

"She might be able to help us to touch..." He coaxes.

I sigh. Hm. "Fine. Fuck it. She's probably not there at this hour anyway." I purposefully make my voice sound resigned and as though I'm giving into the whims of a two-year-old. But I"m thinking that if there is any way to be able to really touch Justin again, I'll try it. Even if it's through that freak.

"I've heard she's a regular at Woody's for lunch." Justin grins. 

And off we go.


	12. Ghost.  QAF-style

POV: MYSTERIOUS MARILYN

As soon as he walks in, I feel it. It's like a palpable love and sadness and it's overwhelming. 

"Marilyn?"

Before even turning around I say, "You must be the one they call 'Sunshine', yes?" Then I spin around on the barstool.

He looks at me oddly. "Well, yes. I am. Erm. Who's 'they'?"

"Sweetie, next to Brian Kinney, you're legendary in these parts." I size him up and then I feel a second presence nearby. "And how *is* Mr. Kinney, Sunshine?"

"What? You haven't heard? He's um... He's dead."

"Yes, yes, of course I've heard. But he's with you. Here. He's standing right next to you."

Justin glances in the mirror over the bar and I see him focus on a spot next to himself and he smiles. "Yeah. You're right. Brian's here." He whispers. "Can you see him too?"

"No, hun. But your love was stronger than death itself if you can see him." I smile. "Indeed, you're lucky you can still see him- he was quite the stunner."

He grins. "Still is." Then his expression turns serious. "Marilyn, do you know of any way that he and I... um, do you know of any way that we could touch again?"

I frown. "Well, I suppose he could use my body- I could channel him." I suddenly feel a shiver and then it's as though I'm on the outside looking in. Kinney didn't waste any time, I think to myself. My body stands and 'Brian's' arms reach for Justin; I see my hand caress Justin's cheek as he closes his eyes, savoring Brian's touch through me. My hands trail over his body and then I'm hugging him as he begins to shake, crying. "Don't cry, Sunshine." I whisper- but it's not me talking. It's Brian. It feels incredible to channel his spirit and the overwhelming feeling in me is love. Brian's love. Legend has it that Brian's love was still unspoken at the time he was killed. But there is no doubt how much he loves Justin. My- er, Brian's hands are tracing through Justin's hair and holding him against me. Justin's body is wracked with sobs; he grips me like his life depends on it and he keeps whispering how much he loves me- rather, how much he loves Brian. I hold him tightly, my fingers moving to rub the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. "Shhhhh- don't cry, Justin. Don't cry. Sunshine..."

Suddenly it's like a soft breeze passes through me and he's gone, Brian's gone. Justin cries and looks into the mirror with concern. "Brian?... Brian?" he rasps. The bartender looks at us oddly. I ignore him.

"Honey, it takes a lot out of spirits to possess a body. Give him time." I'm gasping myself. "Justin, dear..." I say when I catch my breath. "Justin my dear, my *God*, that man loves you."

He smiles at me through his tears. "I know. Me too... I love him more than my own life..."

"No wonder you've pierced the veil. I've heard of that happening. But not in a loooooong time...""

"I just want to be with him." The heartbreak in his voice tears me up. 

"Someday, sweetheart, you will."

"So you don't have any answers? On how we can be together again?"

"It would seem that you are together, Sunshine."

"I mean touch, make love- even just hold hands."

I shake my head. "No, honey. I'm sorry. Only through possession. And it would always be someone else's body- not Brian's. Tell me, can he move objects?"

Justin nods. "Yeah, he kissed me, touched my hair, caressed my cheek."

"Well, revel in those touches, my dear. Not many ghosts have that ability, you know."

He sighs, turns around and leaves the bar.

I sigh as well. It's so sad. And they never have found the guy who killed Kinney. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

POV: BRIAN

Fuck. Fuck me! That was incredible, to touch Justin again, to feel his body, hold him in my arms, run my fingers through his hair. Granted, the fingers had long acryllic nails and after I kissed his face, there was a lipstick stain on his cheek- but being able to feel him again through Mysterious Marilyn was incredible. I'm completely exhausted now but it was worth every moment. I can barely focus on their conversation- Marilyn's spouting off about love and Justin's eating it up. I'm just panting against the bar, not paying much attention and reveling in having just held Justin once more. 

The front door opens and I see Justin leaving. I collect myself and follow him. And no sooner than we exit the bar than there, in front of us, is Ethan. 

"Oh, hey! Jus! How you doing?"

"Hey, Ethan!"

"Did I see you making out with Mysterious Marilyn just now?" Ethan asks incredulously.

Justin laughs lightly and wipes tears off his cheeks. "What, were you standing at the door looking through the windows?" Ethan blushes. "It's not like that, Ethan. She was just doing me... a favor."

"That was some favor!"

Justin smiles. "Yeah. It was." His eyes cloud over. "Well, see you, Ethan."

"Let me buy you a drink. C'mon! For old time's sake."

"I don't think so, Ethan. But thanks anyway."

"Aw, c'mon!"

"Ethan, no. I gotta go." With that, Justin hurries away. I stick around. Just to see what's going on with Ian. He goes and sits at the bar. Little early to start drinking, even for me-- but Ian doesn't seem to think so and he orders a double Beam, checking his watch like he's expecting someone. And in walks: 

Ben??? What the fuck?

Ben goes and sits next to Ethan. Marilyn notices and raises an eyebrow before muttering to herself about trouble brewing. 

"Hey, man."

"Hey. Can I buy you a drink?"

Ben waves him off. "Nah. So how's your love mission with Justin going?" His what?

"Miserably. He's still obsessed with Brian. Everything's Brian. He hardly leaves the loft. The other day, I overheard him talking to Brian like he was alive!"

"Where'd you hear that?"

"I was outside the loft. I was going to knock but it was too weird."

"Yeah, well, Michael hasn't snapped out of his funk either, even though he has finally moved back in. But ever since he went to the loft the other night, it's like he's been talking to Brian, too! It's driving me crazy!"

Ethan sighs and nods his head. "You paid Brad the rest of the money, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Taken care of."

Okay, what the fuck is going on here?

"You have any regrets about having Brian killed?" 

Ben takes a deep breath. "Well, it's too late now, isn't it? He's dead. Brian's gone."

"Yeah, I guess so. I can't believe how much of Liberty Avenue is mourning that asshole! He was a total jerk!"

"'Was' being the operative term there." Ben grins.

Ethan grins back. 

I'm shocked. I mean, Ethan, maybe... but Ben??? I run out of the bar and towards the loft. As I near it, I see Justin trudging down the street, idly kicking a can in front of him. "JUSTIN!" Oh, fuck. He can't hear me. I put all my focus into my leg and I kick the can away from Justin. He grins broadly. 

"Brian!" Justin rushes to the loft and I follow him. He slides the door closed behind him and hurries over to the mirror. "Brian!" He then notes my demeanor and his smile vanishes.

"Justin, listen to me! Ben and Ethan had me killed! Ethan is after you!"

Justin looks at me like I'm crazy. "Why would Ben and Ethan...?"

"They resented me - I dunno... Mikey, you... Ben and Ethan wanted what they thought I had...well, I did have you, but I mean... Christ!" I can't find words...

"How do you know this?"

"I just heard them talking about it at Woody's. Stay the fuck away from those two, okay? I mean it! Promise me, okay? Do you promise?"

Justin nods, apparently in shock.

"Listen, Justin- call Michael, would you? I'm scared for him."

Justin blinks and slowly pulls his cell out. 

"Justin, call him! It's 215-555-6654."

In a daze, Justin dials Michael and tells him to come over. I pace the loft impatiently. 

"Brian, are you sure about this? Maybe they were talking about something else...?"

"It was pretty obvious, Justin."

"Shit. Holy fucking shit." 

\-------------------------------------------------


	13. Ghost.  QAF-style

A/N--- THANK you for your feedback! Love you all!

\--------------------

POV: JUSTIN

This is unbelievable. Ethan and Ben had Brian murdered. I would never have believed it. And it makes me want to go out and buy a gun and go blow both their heads off right now. "Brian, what should we do?"

"You stay the fuck away from both of them is job one."

"We need to tell the police, Brian. We need justice."

Brian nods. Just then there's a knock on the door. "Ask who it is before you open to anyone."

"Who is it?"

"Justin, it's Michael. You asked me to come over."

I open the door and let Michael in. "Justin, you look weird. What is it?"

"Michael, sit down." I lead him to the sofa. 

"What?? What is it? Is it Brian?"

"No- well, sort of. Listen Michael, this isn't going to be easy."

"What?"

"Michael, Brian heard Ben and Ethan talking at Woody's. Michael, they were talking about the hit they put on Brian." I look at him, gauging his reaction. And that, right now, is incomprehension.

"The 'hit'? Of what? E?"

"No, Michael. They had him killed. I guess they believed that Brian kept Ethan from me and you from Ben."

"That's absurd! I don't know about Ethan, but Ben wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"Maybe not, but Brian's adamant that they were talking about it." I feel my lip quivering. "I'm sorry, Michael."

Michael huffs and throws his arms in the air. "No. No way! No fucking way!!"

I glance over at the mirror and see Brian there looking at us, a look of utter sadness on his face. I suddenly realize that hot tears are coursing down my cheeks.

"You're crazy! Brian must have misheard them! Hell, I don't really know if I believe you can see Brian!"

"I can, Michael. And he's sure of it."

Michael stares at me. Then he shakes his head. "No. Nope. I don't know why you're doing this, saying these things, but it's not true."

Just then, the ashtray on the table moves. I see in the reflection that Brian's there, moving it.

"Is that Brian?" Michael gasps.

I nod. "Brian wouldn't make something like this up, Michael. You know that. And you know now for sure he's here. I mean, you can see the ashtray moving... No tricks, no lies, no deception. He's here." The ashtray crashes to the floor and shatters. 

"This isn't happening. There must be some explanation."

I go over to him. "There is, Michael." I swipe my nose with my sleeve. "Michael, Brian's ghost is telling us who killed him."

Michael slumps onto the sofa, a shocked and bewildered look on his face. "Why? Why would they do something like that?" He asks incredulously. "Why?" He repeats.

I go sit by him, placing my hand on his knee. "As I said, Brian thinks it's because they viewed him as a threat or something. I mean, with Brian around there's no way in hell I'd be with Ethan. And we can all see that your love for Brian always got in the way of your relationship with Ben- with everyone, really."

He glances at me oddly. "You can?"

I nod. "It's kind of obvious, Michael. Sorry. The only one who downplayed it was Brian himself."

Michael sighs. "I just can't believe this." He mutters. "What do we do?"

"Stay away from the fuckers!" I hear Brian say.

"Stay away from the two of them." I say. "And we should get the police involved."

"And tell them what? That Brian's ghost told us who his own killers were?"

I think about that. "I don't know, really. We'll have to think about it." I wander over to the cabinet and get out the brush and dustpan to clean up the ashtray, wondering what to do.

"Justin, the one who did the killing was a guy named Brad. They paid him to do it." Brian tells me.

"Brad? Like the Brad you work with?"

"No. I didn't recognize him at all. I'd have known who it was otherwise. But maybe Debbie knows of a Brad. She knows almost all of Liberty Avenue."

"What's Brian saying?" Michael asks.

"He says that some guy Brad was the one they hired to do it."

"I know a Brad. He comes to the comic book store a lot. He's in one of Ben's classes."

"What's he look like?"

"Taller than you and I. Shorter than Brian. Darkish hair. White as a ghost- er. Sorry. It would seem he doesn't get out in the sun much, though. Weird guy."

Hm. That could be the guy who we were attacked by that night. Even in the dark, I could tell he was pale. "Do you know his last name?"

"Sometimes he pays with a check. We could look through my canceled checks."

"C'mon!" I grab his hand and pull him to the door. 

"Ben's at the comic book store right now- won't he get suspicious?"

"What's he doing at the store?"

"He's been covering for me. And before Brian died, he was helping me out since it was the holidays and things were busy."

"Fucking stay away from that guy, Justin!" Brian hisses right next to my ear. "Tell Mikey to, too!"

I get an idea. "Do you bank online?"

"Sure."

"They copy the cleared checks online. Logon." I tell him, pointing to Brian's laptop.

"What's Brian's password?" Michael asks when the prompt comes up.

I smile. "Guess."

"Well, I doubt it's 'Mikey'. So I'd have to go with 'Sunshine'." 

I nod, still smiling. Michael rolls his eyes. "God, he loved you."

"He still loves me." I say quietly, glancing at the mirror. Brian huffs, exasperated. He hates that word. *Abhors* it. "He still loves you too, Michael."

Michael finally gets online and we find a cancelled check for a Bradley Broderick.

"So, maybe we can link this Broderick guy to Ethan and Ben."

"Well, as I mentioned, he's a student of Ben's at the university."

"I don't want you near that guy either, Justin." Brian says and I feel that breezy sensation throughout my body. I smile despite myself and will my dick to behave, sighing.

"Brian, if I can identify him, the cops can arrest him. And he'd probably confess that he was hired to kill you - I mean, he'd confess that to get a reduced sentence."

"You watch too much 'Law & Order', Justin."

"It's the only way, Brian."

"What's he griping about now, Justin?"

"He doesn't want us to get near this Brad guy, either, Michael. We don't even know if he's the right Brad, Brian!"

"Google the guy. Find out what highschool he went to. Then go to the library and check out his yearbook. I don't want you getting hurt over this." Brian's voice brooks no argument.

"Hey, that's a good idea, Brian!" 

"I do have them on occasion." He huffs.

I tell Michael Brian's idea and we get to work.


	14. Ghost.  QAF-style

POV: JUSTIN

"Michael! That's him! That's the guy who shot Brian!" I'm wide-eyed and pointing to a picture of the guy in a yearbook. Several people look up from whatever they're reading and give me a withering look, trying to get me to whisper. Fucking libraries with all their whispering and shit.

"We gotta call Horvath."

I get out my cell. "Do you know the number?"

"He's probably at Ma's. He was off today." He recites the number to me and Debbie answers. 

"Debbie, listen, is Carl there?"

"Sunshine? Is that you? You sound strange." I can hear the strain in her voice- still mourning Brian.

"Yes, it's me. I have to talk to Carl. Now!" I hand Michael the yearbook and gesture for him to go check it out. I fumble for my wallet and hand him my library card, as I'm fairly certain he doesn't have one.

"Justin, what is going on? What's wrong?"

Damnit, woman! Just get me the fucking cop! I think to myself. I summon all my patience; "I know who killed Brian. Please, please get Carl on the line!"

Now several people around me actually shush me. I ignore them and follow Michael to the lending desk. He's signing for the yearbook right then.

"Carl here. Justin, is it?" In the background I hear Debbie getting a little hysterical.

"Yes, Carl. Listen, I know who killed Brian. I know!"

"Now, calm down son and take a deep breath. Meet me at Brian's loft in 10 minutes and we can talk about it, okay?"

Exasperated, I flip the phone closed and pull Michael forcibly to the door, the yearbook in tow. "C'mon. We're meeting him at the loft." I practically push Michael into the 'Vette and drive like a bat out hell to the loft. I glance in the rearview mirror and see Brian. "Brian! I know who did it! I know!"

"I know. I saw the picture." Brian says calmly.  
\--------------------------------------  
POV: BRIAN

"I want to kill the son of a bitches- Brad- and Ben and Ethan, too." Justin hisses, nearly crashing the 'Vette at the next intersection.

"Watch it, Justin!" I mutter. "And I don't want you anywhere near those guys! Let Carl handle it." Justin is seething and I get worried he might do something rash. "Justin, really. Don't do anything. Let the law handle it."

"Fucking sons of bitches!" He grinds out.

Mikey is uncharacteristically quiet and I glance at him. He's staring at the picture of the guy, this Brad guy. I see a tear fall on the page.

"Justin, tell Mikey that it will be alright, 'kay?"

"Michael, Brian's here. He says it will be alright." Justin says, anger still evident in his voice.

Mikey sniffles. "I know. I just can't believe I'll never see him again. And all because of me and my fucking crush on him."

I snort from the backseat. "Sunshine, tell him that's bullshit. It was just my time. And he has so many pictures of me, he'll never not see me."

Justin tells Mikey what I said. "But I want to see Brian in person. You don't understand how lucky you are, Justin. What I wouldn't give to see him again."

I scoff. Leave it to Mikey to get maudlin. Justin calms and simply smiles sadly; he puts his hand on Mikey's knee. I reach through the front seat and give Michael a breezy non-real hug and he smiles. "At least I can feel him." He whispers as Justin pulls up to the loft. Carl is already there, standing outside the front door. Debbie's there too, wringing her hands and crying. Mikey really is his mother's son.

"Tell Michael to quit being such a princess and suck it up."

Justin tells him and Mikey's smile broadens. Then Justin grabs the yearbook and rushes over to Horvath; he's greeted with a bone crushing hug from Debbie before opening the door and leading them up to the loft. He shows him the picture and excitedly, angrily tells him that this Brad guy did it. Turns out Ethan was in Brad's same graduating class, which explains the connection further. Justin flags Ethan's page and shows it to Horvath as well. "Carl, this guy is one of the guys who hired him."

Carl's eyebrows shoot up as he looks at the picture. "How do you know this?" He makes some notes on the flagged pages in the yearbook. 

"Someone I know overheard Ethan Gold and Ben Bruckner having a conversation about it at Woody's. They were discussing having paid Brad Broderick to kill Brian Kinney."

"Who? I'll need to speak with this person." Justin glances at me in the mirror and I shrug.

"I...I can't tell you."

"Justin, I'll need to speak to that person."

"You don't understand. I can't tell you. Really, I just can't. Just trust me on this. Please look into it- it's true, really. All of it."

Carl sighs. "I'll send out a car to check it out and pick this Broderick guy up. Who knows, maybe he'll corroborate your story about Gold and Bruckner. Can I take this yearbook?" Carl says absently while scribbling in his pad.

"Of course."

"Justin, oh, Sunshine! I'm so sorry you have to go through all this! I've been worried about you. We've all been just crushed by what happened to Brian, honey! Right now you need family!" Debbie says, sobbing. "I can't believe that asshole Ethan and my soon-to-be EX-Son-In-Law Ben did this! Things were going so well for you and Brian for so long, I was so proud of you two! I wish you wouldn't isolate yourself from us so much honey!"

Justin says nothing. 

"But why? Why on earth?"

"Deb, honey, can I ask the questions?" Carl interjects. She makes a motion like she's locking her mouth with a key. "Er. Why would you think these two would hire Broderick here to do this? Brian was very popular and I've seen myself how central he was to this makeshift family. I don't understand."

"Brian says..." Justin starts out, forgetting for a moment that no one else knows I'm here except Mikey. "We think it's because they believed Brian was a threat. Ethan couldn't have me with Brian in the picture, and Michael's crush on Brian kept him from fully giving his heart to Ben."

"That's crazy!"

"Love is a very powerful motive, Sweetie. Even twisted love." Carl interjects to Deb. "It can make people do things they wouldn't normally do."

"You have no idea." Sunshine says, giving me a sad smile in the mirror.

"Do you consider them personally dangerous?"

"Absolutely!"

"No, I mean are they armed?"

"Oh. That I don't know, Detective." Justin says. I thwack him on the shoulder and nod emphatically into the mirror. "But I do know that the person who overheard them considers them very dangerous." He adds.

"Okay, I'll call it in. Justin, I'll call you when we're ready for you to view the line-up to ID the Broderick character. I'm taking you on your word right now about the overheard conversation. Mind you, I'd rather interview this person myself." With that Carl and Debbie leave, taking Michael with them. 

As Justin slides the door shut behind them, he turns to me and crosses his fingers. He goes up to the mirror and traces my features on the glass. I come up behind him and 'hug' him; he shudders- while I can't hug him, it still affects him when my arms pass through him. It affects me too. "You did good Sunshine. Now all we can do is wait and see."

He smiles a little apprehensively and I continue 'holding' him. He sighs. I focus on my hand and caress his cheek. It's getting easier and easier for me to touch him, to move things- which really involve the same focus. I feel like I'm getting stronger overall. It's not much when you're a ghost, but it's something.

"Justin, listen, I'm going to split for awhile and see what Ethan and Ben are up to. I want to keep tabs on them until this all blows up in their faces. You okay here?"

"Sure, of course."

"Do NOT answer the door, Justin. I mean it. The loft door is heavily fortified- no one can get through it. And set the alarm- the police are automatically called if you push the panic button or if it's compromised. Even if Horvath shows up, tell him to call you. No one!"

"Brian, you ninny- Ethan's not going to hurt me. He's after me to win me back. And he doesn't have a clue that we know."

"Justin! No!"

"If he stops by and I don't answer, he'll get suspicious."

I roll my eyes. "Just pretend you aren't home! And here- here's the master code for the alarm and instructions - it's a cinch to change so please change the code immediately when I leave- and choose the extra deadbolt feature. You just have to hit this little lock here to add that feature, see? When you hit the panic button, it activates a deadbolt lock that you can open only from the inside." 

"Why change all the codes?"

"Justin, please..." I give him my serious look.

"Briannn.."

"Look, it's a three easy step process to change the code- it takes all of 2 minutes! The code hasn't been changed in awhile and a lot of people have seen me punch it in. Do it, just in case."

"..." 

"Justin, please. Do it for me. Fuck! Fine, I'll try to do it! But Justin, watch what code I'm putting in- my touch abilities are limited--"

He sighs and grabs the instructions. "Fine. I'll do it."


	15. Chapter 15

  
Author's notes:

I want to thank EVERYone for their lovely reviews so far! I really appreciate it! Feedback is always constructive, good or bad, and I really do thank you! :)

I also really appreciate everyone's patience with the frequency of my posting. R/L has been getting in the way for awhile, including serious computer issues involving me having to recreate huge chunks of stories or entire stories - so thanks for your patience, as well.  


BTW: This is a rather spooky chapter, be forewarned- I won't say what will happen of course, except to tell you that the road will be up and down and weird from here on - but never fear!  


:-O-- grover

PS: Again, if anything gets confusing, let me know and I'll try to clear it up! Okay- I'll quit babbling now... XXXOOO grover  


* * *

POV: JUSTIN

Soon after Brian leaves, I toss the directions for changing the code on the counter. I roll my eyes at Brian's paranoia and figure I'll take a short nap first. Screw making a new code for now.  


I doze off on the couch and the next thing I hear is a knock on the door. I check the time- Brian's been gone about an hour. I ignore the knock and lay back.

"Justin? You in there? It's me, it's Ethan." There's a pause. "Justin? You in?" I continue to ignore the knock AND Ethan.  


Then I hear him punch in the alarm code and I freeze. I hear a key in the lock and try to gather my wits. Then it occurs to me: Michael knows all the codes and has Brian's key- Ben must've given it to Ethan. I run into the bedroom and pretend to be sleeping.

I hear him walk in and out of the corner of my eye, I notice him putting what appear to be hearing devices around the loft. What the fuck? 

He disappears from sight for awhile and I pretend to just be getting up. "Ethan? What are you doing here?" I say in my best groggy voice. 

Then I freeze as I see what he's staring at. He's staring at the yearbook on the kitchen counter, open to the page with Brad on it. Carl forgot to take it with him. 

"You left your door open." He lies. "I was coming in to leave you some Chinese food since you're wasting away." I notice the bag on the counter. Then he looks at me strangely. "Justin, what are you doing with this? This is a copy of my senior yearbook! I went here!" He says angrily, slamming down the yearbook.

I get flustered. "Oh, that- I was just... I was just leafing through it. Character studies. I like to check out yearbooks because they're full of pictures to copy. I like to sketch from them."

Ethan cuts his eyes at me suspiciously. "Why this particular one?"

"No reason. I didn't even know you went there, Ethan. I just pick random books up at the library and leaf through them until I'm inspired." My voice has an edge to it I hope only I can hear. "What a coincidence, huh? That I picked up yours?" I sound lame, I know it.

"Why is it turned to this page? And why is my page flagged? With 'S.#1' written on it?"

"No reason. I was just surprised to notice that you went there."

"Justin, what's going on?"

I realize that Ethan would know that I would recognize Brad's picture from the night Brian was killed and my heart starts to pound. "I think that's Brian's killer, Ethan- I think I found him!"

He starts to round the kitchen island towards me, a very weird look in his eye. 

"Ethan? What are you doing?"

I see him reach for one of the steak knives. "Why is my page flagged, too? What am I called S. #1 for?"

Fucking Carl. 'Suspect #1' is what I believe it means. "Ethan, calm down. I was just surprised to see you in there. I was going to sketch you. That means 'Sketch #1'."

Ethan turns back to Brad's page. "'S. #2' is written on this page. You know, don't you...?"

"Know what? Ethan- you're scaring me. Put the knife down. Ethan, stop it! That means 'Sketch #2'- I was going to sketch him and take the drawing to the police..."

"I can tell, Justin. You're a terrible liar. You would sketch me before the guy who killed your lover?" Shit! "And I can't afford to get in trouble now, Justin- my career's taking off. I won the Williams Award, Justin. I wanted you to join in it with me, you know. I did it out of love. Tell me, how did you find out?" He's slowly approaching me, idly playing with the knife, his voice ominous. 

I'm backing away. "Find out what? Ethan, clearly you realize I would recognize that guy's picture- I saw him on the night Brian was killed... He was the killer! And I was just surprised to see you in there. You're simply 'S.#1' because I saw your picture first."

"Broderick comes before Gold, Justin. How. Did. You. Find. Out."

I swallow and look to the door. "Ethan, calm down. I don't go through the pictures in order- I just leaf through till I find something of interest. Really- find out what?" Really, my explanation is plausible, isn't it? I stick to my guns. Until I can bolt the fuck out of here.

"I don't believe that you don't know..."

"I really don't..."

He continues to hold the steak knife but he stops encroaching on me. He stands about 4 feet away. "Justin, you lie like I draw. Terribly."

I swallow again. "Ethan, my voice is unsteady because you're coming at me with a knife and I don't have a clue what you're getting at..."

He goes over to the yearbook. "Justin, it's not even your writing."

How can he tell that from such a small series of letters and symbols? I choose to call his bluff. "Yes it is- what are you talking about?"

"You always use cursive- never block letters."

"Not when it's a fucking single letter!"

"Yes, even then. I remember. I remember everything about you. Especially your non-stop obsession with Brian. You can't even let him go after he's dead."

I start wishing that Brian were here. Desperately.


	16. Chapter 16

  
Author's notes:

My- I'm not sure how the review 'star' system works- but I went from 5 to 1/2 with one installment! Yikes! :O  
  
Here's the brief next installment- a reunion of sorts- of two bodies and souls meant to be together. The reunion is not one reached pleasantly however... Sorry!   


And, please, again: whatever they may be, please let me know your thoughts- and thanks for reading! **Lurve y'all!**

PS: I feel obligated to add that I love Ben- he just fits this story in the role he's in; (Now, ETHAN, on the other hand: fuck''im! I hate him, and he fits just perfectly in the role he's playing and will be playing. Ha! He's such an asshole! (*Evil grin*) )

\- grover 

* * *

POV: BRIAN

I find Ben is at the university but I'm unsuccessful at locating Ethan. I assume since it's the middle of the day, the fucker's at PIFA. I start to head back to the loft when I get this sense of impending doom. I begin sprinting in a panic and suddenly find I'm there but I don't have time to wonder at that- I mean, I went over 5 miles in an instant.

I get a sick feeling as I jump the stairs 3 at a time to find the loft door wide open. I burst into the room and see Justin hugging his knees to his chest on the sofa just at the moment I see that funnel of light he had obviously stepped away from disappearing into nothing. Then I look over and my heart lurches- behind the counter is Justin. Justin's body. "Justin!" I yell and his spirit turns to face me from the couch, tears streaming down his face. 

Unable to face him covered in blood I run to his living spirit and take him in my arms- I hear a strange sobbing noise and am surprised it's me. He wraps himself around me- I can feel him, touch him and I cling to him. 

"Bri... Brian... it was Ethan.... he found out I knew- Carl..." his voice is broken with periodic sobs. "Carl forgot to take the yearbook... Ethan had a key to the loft... I didn't answer the door but I hadn't bothered to change... the code yet... If I had done like you said..."

I'm sobbing uncontrollably and I just keep holding him against me. "How did he know the code? How did he get a key...?" Then it dawns on me. Ben. He lives with Michael. Michael has all that information and of course he has a key. "God. It was Ben! Oh, Justin... I should have anticipated that... oh God... I should never have left..." I bury my face in the crook of his neck feeling so much guilt, were I alive, I'd probably kill myself over it.

"Brian, it's not your fault! Not any more than it was my fault you were killed... I mean, you told me to reprogram the code..."

"I should have waited till you had before I left..." I say huskily.

"It's simple and I should have done it right away. I didn't- I ignored it! I didn't think of Ben having all that to give Ethan either! Stop feeling guilty! Ethan's the one who did it! God- I can sense your feelings like they were my own! Stop!"

"Justin, I'm so sorry..." I whisper. 

"No." He says quietly crying. "I'm just so glad to hold you..." 

I don't know how long we stand there, crying and holding each other but when I finally look up, my eyes are nearly swollen shut and it's late afternoon.


	17. Chapter 17

  
Author's notes: OK- RL has had me out of commission for a loooooong time and I'm sorry- it continues to- but I really love this site and need some QAF to post- so in the next few weeks I'm going to take a little time to myself and away from my parents [RL] (gasp- aren't I a bitch! lol)- and try to update some of my stories! Thank you to all for your patience, reviews are of course always loved and welcomed if you have time, and again- I'm sorry my stories take so f*ckin' long to move on! If questions about this story, which is weird, I grant'cha, lemme know! Lurve ya!  
  
PS- You may want to re-read the last chapter to get up to speed on what's happening here- it ain't pretty, but you'll know what's going on.  
  
PPS- I think it's chapter 8 that can fill you in a little about piercing the veil. ;)   


* * *

POV: BRIAN

We're all cried out. Or I am- If a ghost can dehydrate, I'm dehydrated. And we're both exhausted. I continue to hold Justin when I hear something behind me and turn to find Jason. But I don't let Justin out of my arms, I just turn him around and pull his back to my chest, wrapping my arms around him still so we are both facing the other spirit. We are soaked in each other's tears and sweat and whatever else but it doesn't matter. My eyes have cleared mostly but I'm still sniffling a little. "Jason." I say simply. 

Jason has a sympathetic look to him and he comes up to us. "I'm sorry this happened, Brian-- but stop blaming yourself. Both of you stop. This was meant to be..."

"You said you had a sense that I was going to die at least a few days prior to it happening." I accuse, my voice groggy from crying; I clear my throat. "I didn't have that with Justin till practically the last minute- and we're very close... Even alive we practically read each other's minds..."

"Brian, the legend- every version of it- reads that when you can pierce the veil, you aren't privy to that kind of power. You remarkably had it anyway. But you weren't meant to get here before Justin was murdered." I tighten my hold on Justin at Jason's choice of words. His arms hold my arms to him. His breath hitches.

"As I said, Justin and I have always had a telepathy of sorts. It must've carried over from when I was alive. But I got here in an instant- I started to sprint and suddenly I was here and I still wasn't in time."

"You have great power, Brian, that very few have- transport. It involves a high level of urgency, love and concentration. But as I said, you weren't meant to prevent this. There are a maybe one or two versions tops of the legend of piercing the veil- I mean, *very* few- where destiny precludes that the two individuals be on the same plane soon after each other. It's very very rare and few even bother to study it anymore. The story was passed down by oral tradition and again, it's terribly rare."

I snort. "More rare than being the first two to pierce the veil in 1,375 years?? And *fuck* destiny! Justin and I broke up so many times when we were alive my loft should have had a revolving door."

"Brian!" Justin admonishes.

"It's true! We did break up! All the time! Destiny is bogus!" I hiss at Justin. I look back to Jason. "I just didn't get back to the loft fucking fast enough to save him this morning! Justin would be alive and not a spirit in my arms- he'd be in the body that is lying in a pool of blood on my kitchen floor, alive and fine!" I choke back tears again. Geez, I'm being such a weepy lesbian.

Jason looks at me and shakes his head. "Brian, listen to me. You may have broken up a lot when you were alive, but you always came back together and you were both on the same plane then too. I can see through you guys and I know you never stopped being in love with each other and loving each other at a level very, very few experie---"

"Good lord, STOP with this LOVE shit!" I honestly don't know why I'm reacting like this - I think I'm angry that I didn't know Justin was going to be be killed because of this piercing the veil legend. Especially this oh-so-rare version of it that Jason didn't even tell me about! I'm angry at myself for letting Justin down, for being responsible for the ending of his short life, for fucking being killed in the first place and precipitating this whole fiasco.

"There, Brian. That's it exactly: what you just thought." God, I'm sick of Jason mindreading. "That's why you're reacting this way. But you had *no* control over it! The whole thing was destiny, Brian- even if you knew about this version of the legend, even if you had an hour to get back to the loft to prevent what Ethan did- it would have played out the same way. All of it- even Justin leaving you those years ago for Ethan who then turned into the maniac he is now- all of it would have happened the same way. It was meant to be, Brian. 

"The ease with which you have traversed this other world without assistance is astounding; you have powers beyond any ghost I've ever seen here or heard of- not just the piercing of the veil- you have the power of transport, incredible telekinetic powers, you learned telepathy faster than most, you even had a telepathy with Justin when he was alive that warned you he was in danger- a power *expressly* not endowed to those who pierce the veil- you have all these amazing abilities, self-taught- but no matter how excellent your abilities or talents, be they even superhuman - you could not have changed the outcome of this day. Brian, it was meant to be. Nothing, absolutely nothing you could have done would have changed a thing. I know you like feeling you have control- but events in this context were out of your control.

"Listen, Brian, the myth's moral premise is that there are certain souls - obviously in this case, yours and Justin's - that were simply meant to be together on the same plane, with each other, like two halves of a whole, able to touch each other, stay together, forever. Not with one aging on the living plane as the other waits on the other plane for the living one to pass. The one I just described with one aging and the other waiting is widely accepted and studied. This version- the one chosen for you and Justin, no one has ever heard of it actually happening until now- it's been merely theoretical. That's why this is so shocking- you don't know it yet, but you have everyone on this plane reeling- from both being the first piercing the veil in over 1,370 years and from being the first of this version ever known." Jason pauses a moment and looks at me warily. "I'm sorry, Brian."

"You should have told me anyway." I growl. "I could have done *something*! Not left this afternoon for instance!"

"Brian, you are so stubborn: listen to me: no you couldn't."

Justin snorts at Jason's stubborn comment.

"Destiny shouldn't kill 23 year olds!"

"I know it seems cruel, bu--"

"'Cruel'?" I laugh humorlessly. "Believe me, Jason- I know 'Cruel'- cruel is someone kicking their kid around when their little and telling them they never should have been born! Cruel is a mother who sits there and watches it happen! Cruel is bullies in school beating up on someone smaller than they are! *That's* cruel! But this? This is barbaric! This is only one step ahead of bashing a kid's head in at their prom!" 

"I know you're talking about your childhood experiences with your father and mother; I know your talking about you protecting Michael at school; I know you're talking about what happened to Justin at his prom..."

"Well, congrats! You get my references! Now, you moron, do you get my *point*? Justin was killed by a serial killer today and you're telling me it was pre-ordained! That's just sick!" I'm furious and refuse to believe that we can't control our destinies.

"Brian, you do control your destinies. In this legend, though, this was going to happen."

"Firstly, quit fucking reading my thoughts asshole! Secondly, if I do control my destiny as you say, but in this legend this was going to happen- how is that being in control of my destiny?"

"Because you and Justin are meant to be together on the same plane, Brian. In this one context, you didn't have control." 

Justin moves his crossed arms up and down mine which rest wrapped around his chest. "Brian, shhh. I really do think it was meant to be." I take a deep shuddery breath and kiss the top of his head and realize I'm crying. I take a few moments, trying to convince myself that they must be right and I'm wrong and I couldn't have saved Sunshine and that somehow this is a good thing. This destiny was a good thing. But I can't.

"Brian, I am right. You'll see. It *is* a good thing." Jason says, having read my mind. 

I told you to quit reading my mind! I tell him silently.

Justin then turns to me and looks into my eyes. "Brian, there isn't anything we can do about it now anyway, it was Ethan's doing, and there's something to what Jason is saying. First of all, Ethan meant nothing to me- yet I still left the one love in my life for him for those few months. He was clingy, obsessive and he cheated on me. He was sickeningly romantic and I wasn't happy. My heart belonged to you. Remember all the contact we still maintained-? we were still drawn to each other. Then I left him and came back to you- and you took me back. And look at Ethan now- a nutjob obsessed with a man who he *always always* knew was in love with Brian Kinney. Yet he couldn't and can't let go of me, his fantasy of me. It was meant to happen this way. Brian, Jason's right- it was going to happen. This way. Today." I look down at him and there's a light in his eyes that wasn't there when he was alive. I take a deep breath and kiss him on the forehead. He smiles at me.

"I still think it sucks." I mutter stubbornly, but I finally relent. Sunshine cups my chin and kisses me on the cheek. I wrap around him from the back so we're facing Jason again, and I take another deep breath.

Jason regards us critically a moment and he smiles. "It's odd, you know? Together you two positively glow unlike I've seen before."

I look at Justin and he *is* kind of glowing; so are my arms that hold him to me from behind. Weird. I mean, it's not a glow in the dark glow- but there IS some kind of light in each of us. Justin's is different than mine- more sunny, whereas mine is more of a deeper gold. I don't think it really changes our appearance at a glance- but if you look for it, it's there.

"Is this bad?" Justin asks quietly, just noticing this very soft, strange quality to our skin.

"No, Justin. It's beautiful. It comes from within you. It's pure love."

I snort. Justin swats me. "Shut up and listen, Brian!"

"Listen to me, while it's horrible that you two had to die, and such terrible deaths- none of this is bad." Jason reassures us. I bite my tongue at that. And Brian, even if you never ever EVER use the 'L' word, I think you've got to face it. You two epitomize it. YOU epitomize it, Brian, he telepathies to me. 

I sternly and silently tell him to stop telling me stuff that Justin can't hear. I figure it will just confuse Justin to answer Kemp aloud. Soon Justin will be able to read my mind and vice versa-- and while we already sort of have a telepathy, that should be scary.

"So. What now?" Justin asks.

 

"Yeah, does destiny allow us any free will here?"

Justin rolls his eyes at my question. "Brian, let it GO already! God, you are *such* a control freak, you know that?"

Jason grins at Justin's comment and adds, "Brian, yes, you have free will. Destiny just plays a bigger part in your lives than in most- if not all. It's a good thing- please, you just have to trust me on that, Brian. 

"Justin, as far as what you can do now: you can stay if you want to see the people who did this to you two are brought to justice; and/or if you want to see your loved ones say goodbye and say your goodbyes back. Or you can leave for the next plane which is what I'm about to do. As far as I know, it is the final plane, but as I haven't been there, I can't say for sure. Brian would have to go, too, if you choose to move on. 

"I won't be here to help you anymore Brian; but I've watched you over the short time you've been here, and as I've already mentioned, you've figured things out with remarkable ease. I know you'll be fine- and you're safe now. No matter what, you're both safe. And you have each other." 

He reaches his arm up to call on that tunnel of light whatever-the-fuck-it-is. "Stop- wait!" I interrupt, not knowing why exactly. "Jason, I know I've been a little difficult. But I appreciate the help you've given me and given us. Thanks, 'kay?"

"I expected no less from Brian Kinney- you're a well known pain in the ass." He smiles. "And you're welcome. Thank you for the help you've given me. You're a good man. Both of you are." Then he grins at us. "Later." With that, the ceiling seems to disappear and the tunnel of white swirling lights opens up, cascading down on the boy. He smiles at us, makes a peace sign of all things and turns into a mist that is sucked up with the swirls into the sky.

I turn Justin back around in my arms. "Did you see that 'peace out' gesture? Definitely still a teenager..." I joke weakly. I look down into his face and he smiles a little quirkily, nodding. 

"What did he mean, the help you've given him? He was dead before you even knew about him."

"Exposing his murderer, Reikert; stopping Stockwell from covering it up- and he said stopping Stockwell from becoming mayor was an added bonus. He stopped going into the light for quite awhile to help me out when I got here. You did as much if not more than I did in all those things he was grateful for, you know."

He kisses me on the cheek. "Not more. Just different. But it was your ad I think that really put it over the top and got people voting; that really exposed Reikert, Brian." Justin smiles warmly and it's dazzling- he's more Sunshine here than in the living plane, actually.


	18. Chapter 18

  
Author's notes: This is really late in being updated- my apologies!! If any of what's in this chapter is confusing, let me know. Whenever B/J 'telepathy' (wasn't sure what word to use!), there are no quotes. Hopefully in the context, it will make sense. Reviews loved and thanks to all who already have! Lurve ya!!  


* * *

POV: BRIAN 

"What do you want, Brian?" Justin asks, ostensibly referring to the choices that Jason listed for what we can do next.

But I choose to interpret the question my own way. "Honestly? I want you alive and healthy."

Justin sighs and holds my face between both his hands and stares into my eyes. "Listen, you stubborn ass, let it go." He whispers gently before kissing me lightly on the nose. "Jason knows what he's talking about. Apparently we're somehow unique, meant always to be on the same 'plane' or whatever. I want that too, because I love you more than my own life."

"Doesn't look like you had much choice in that matter." 

Justin rolls his eyes, a study in patience and kisses my forehead. "Shut up, Brian. Jason's right. We were meant to be together, whether you want to call it destiny or not, piercing the veil together still means we're soulmates."

"Why do you *always* have to be so schmaltzy, Justin? How did I end up with someone so opposite from me?" I sigh and finally just let it all go. Nothing I can do about it anyway. "So, what do I want to do? I want to stay and to say goodbye to everyone- see them say goodbye to us, to you. And I want to see those fuckers brought to justice. I want to stay awhile."

He nods. "Me too."

I smile. "I know."

Justin grins. "It's weird you being able to read my mind and me not being able to read yours!"

"You'll be able to soon- it'll just happen, I suspect. Reading me, anyway. Like I did with you. I didn't even realize I did it. It just happened- remember? Half the time I didn't realize I was doing anything until you pointed it out to me- my telekineticism, my telepathy. There are a lot of things you'll be able to do."

"I probably won't catch on like you did. Jason was pretty impressed with you. Despite you being such an ass to him."

"Just speaking my mind- gotta be me. Especially when it comes to you, asshole. And nonsense. You'll catch on fast- you always do. 1500 SATs, remember? You just have to focus all your emotions, your thoughts into what you're doing."

"I don't think it takes SAT smarts to make it here, Bri."

"Sure it does. Smarts is smarts."

Justin sighs and I realize that we've been standing practically all day, having clung to each other not even aware of where we were or for how long, grieving Justin's passing- I know it was at least four hours of just leaning on each other crying, moving from our spots not even occurring to either of us. And then Jason's arrival. I take Justin's hand and pull him to the sofa. He falls back gratefully and I arrange him to go lengthwise and I gently lay on top of him, reveling in the feeling of him more than I ever have- and it's overwhelming. I hear Justin gasp and he arches his back.

"Brian, you feel it, don't you? It's like touch, contact, even through our clothes- feels... feels more..."

"Electric, intense, bright, almost overwhelming?"

"Yeah. It's like we're more than touching... it somehow involves all the senses in a way I can't explain..."

"Good thing we can't die again- I have a feeling the first time we fuck we're going to think we had."

"Jesus, Brian. Think about it! We can spend all our time making love, we can't die, we can't grow old, we're legends in all worlds we've experienced.” He pauses. “The only bad thing is I don't know if we eat."

I burst out laughing. "I don't think you have to eat, but I think you can, Justin." I lean down and kiss him hard on the mouth and we both jump, not expecting what happens- I practically come. We're both breathless having never experienced something like that before- ever- it was like a new kind of orgasm.

"Did you feel *that*?" Justin gasps. "Jesus- I think I came! In some way I've never come... Fuck!"

I just swallow and nod like the village idiot. I lean down and kiss him again, grinding against him and I was right: the first time we fuck our heads may literally explode because right now, I can feel him and me both coming multiple times just from this. I finally pull away in a daze. "Jus..." is all I can manage and we look into each other's eyes panting like dogs in 120 degree weather.

"Omigod... I've never... I think I came 5 times!" Justin finally says. I just nod, a bit speechless.

What do we do about our clothes? I hear him wonder to himself, as I look down.

I decide to try him on the telepathy. Justin?

He looks at me. I read his mind; he's thinking, ‘God, Brian's so beautiful.’ 

I smirk and ignore that thought for the moment. I continue to try to telepathy to Justin: Justin, somehow these clothes are all we get, as far as I know- but they never get dirty for long. I don't have a clue how it works. So that lovely ensemble will follow you for years to come.

He laughs at the double entendre. Unless, he adds silently, we find something. We've got time here before ascending to the next plane. And we're a little different than the other ghosts. We should explore. Maybe there's a Torso for the AfterWorld.

I grimace at the choice of store but I nod. By the way, Justin? I know you aren't aware of it, but you're reading my mind right now.

He gasps. "Brian?"

"Hmm?"

"Was I really?"

"Uh huh. See? You're a natural. So, anyway, I'm glad that's what you were wearing when that asshole offed you; I'm glad you didn't have sweats on or something. Those jeans hug your ass just right and you happened to wear my favorite blue shirt of yours."

"Well, I kind of had you on my mind when I picked it out- and you got me this shirt. You too, you know. You in black is fucking hot. Tight black."

"Well, this is Babylon wear, remember? It's kind of tiresome wearing the same thing all the time. I have my Hugo Boss black leather jacket too, but I haven't really been wearing it. Anyway, I suspect we won't be wearing much at all for awhile."

"Brian, can we try the telepathy thing again?"

Sure, I reply without a sound.

How far away can you be for you to hear me?

I suspect anywhere. I think we already sort of had it in a crude way when we were alive. This morning when Ethan was here, I got this sense of desperation and fear from you- that's when I transported back. Anyway, I could 'hear' you call my name for help, even though you were alive. I was all the way across town and I heard you alive. Now that we're having conversations back and forth, I'm sure I could be at the supermarket in Philadelphia and you could tell me to remember the condoms and lube.

 

"We don't need those anymore. We're dead." Justin grins.

I cock an eyebrow wickedly. "You're dream 'cum' true, huh, Sunshine..." I say aloud. "Fucking raw with no consequences."

Justin gets an excited look on his face. "I can't wait, Brian! Oh, God!"

We jump, suddenly startled by a scream at the door.


	19. Chapter 19

  
Author's notes: Sorry so long to update- without a beta, I kind of agonize over things before posting! Plus, my muse has been quiet lately. LOL  
  
I hope this chapter is to your liking, and if there's any confusion about anything (it's a convuluted story), let me know! Reviews loved!   


* * *

Justin and I are suddenly startled by a scream at the door.

"Oh my God NO!!!!" It's Mikey, discovering Justin's body. Since it's a crime scene, I didn't move anything or I'd have at least covered Justin's body with a sheet. His body has been there all afternoon and it makes me sick. Mikey drops the bags he was holding and whips out his cell. He whimpers as he sits over Justin's body doing what the operator is telling him to do. "No, no pulse. I don't know CPR!" 

I pull Justin with me and stand him on the far side of the island so he doesn't see himself- his body, bloodied, cold and still. I steel myself and go to Michael who is leaning over Justin’s corporeal shell talking in a panic to the operator. I try to avoid looking at the body and I gently tap Michael-- I don't have a clue why but I know he'll be able to see me now. His head swings around and he gasps. "Brian!" 

"Mikey, he's gone. C'mon, get up and let's get away from having to see Sunshine’s remains like this. Trust me, it's too late. Justin’s with me now."

Mikey's staring right at me but he doesn't move. He’s in shock. "Mikey, come on!" I focus on my arm to make it more solid and pull him around and we almost bump into Justin standing right there, having moved around the island to see his bloody corpse. "Justin! Christ! Don't!" I grab his wrist and pull him and Michael both towards the bedroom. God, oh God... I feel sick having seen Justin's body and seeing Justin SEEING himself.... I literally might throw up. And I do. "Stay *here* both of you!" I run to the bathroom and vomit- I know those on the living plane wouldn't see anything if I didn't flush but I do anyway. Justin's right behind me and I rub circles on his back as he retches. "Justin, Sunshine, what possessed you to *do* that? Fuck!"

When he's done, he answers, "I don't know. Sense of closure. Finality. See that this is real." I flush for him since he hasn't yet learned to move objects. I actually feel like I'm moving about like a real person almost- it's like with him in the same plane with me, my strength has increased immeasurably. Manipulating objects has become second nature to me and I hardly have to focus on it anymore. "C'mon Justin." I lead him into the bedroom where Michael is quietly crying. I'm tempted to telepathy 'idiot' to Justin for having done that, but I don't want to kick him when he's down. And I saw my body; maybe it gave me closure too. I dunno. I sit next to Mikey on the bed.

"Michael, you can see and hear me, right?"

He nods.

"Can you see and hear Justin?" This I'm not as sure of but he nods. "It's creepy though... with him here and then over there all bloo--"

"Mikey!" I hiss to shut him up and to let him know to be more sensitive.

"It's okay Brian. He's right... It *is* creepy." Justin says in a quiet voice.

I sigh. "Michael, listen, Ethan killed him - he suspected Justin knew the truth about himself hiring Broderick to kill me – he saw the yearbook that Carl left behind with some notations on it. It’s important Ethan, Broderick and Ben are fucking locked away - and in the meantime, that you get a bodyguard or something because Ethan and Ben are killers. Ethan even killed the man he had *me* killed for: he killed Sunshine in cold blood- the supposed love of his life. I don’t want to see what Ben is capable of if he gets suspicious that you know he was in on my murder."

He swallows and nods mutely, looking a little confused. It *is* confusing.

"And we'll be watching over you a lot too, okay? I don't know how much protection I can offer as a ghost, but I'll do whatever I can and I'll warn you of whatever I find out. Wait for the ambulance and go get Horvath and tell him what happened." I reach out and touch his cheek and he gasps. As I said, it's amazing, but with Justin here, I feel pretty strong. Almost corporeal. "Be very careful. I love you Mikey. Always have, always will."

He's put his hand to his cheek. "Me too, Brian. Always have, always will." He repeats. It's obvious he's in shock and a glance at Justin to the far side of Mikey on the bed indicates that he is, too.

"Michael?"

He nods.

"You got all that I said, right? I know this is a shock. Justin and I spent the afternoon crying our asses off. Apparently it was meant to be, Michael. Don't ask me to explain, but somehow this was supposed to happen and couldn't have *not* happened."

"Why?"

"Sunshine had to die because of my dying... that's it in a nutshell."

Justin seems to perk up at that. "Brian! That's not what Jason said at all and you know it!"

That's what I heard... I telepathy that thought. I warn him not to challenge this point or we'll fight.

"It's destiny, Michael. No one could control either Brian's nor my death in any way." Justin says anyway.

Mikey still looks justifiably confused but simply says with tears in his eyes, "I'm sorry they had to be such violent deaths for both of you. I really am." And to me, it's such the perfect Mikey response- sweet, simple, not prying because he knows he probably won't understand, I put my arms around him and concentrate on giving him a real hug instead of the whooshy thing he and Justin described. It's vague, but I feel his arms around me and I feel like crying. I'm going to miss Michael so much when he can't see us anymore, and once we leave this plane. But until this murder situation is resolved, I feel certain he will be able to see at least me, if not both Justin and me. 

When my strength flags a little bit I have to pull away and Michael's full on bawling. "You're fading a little Brian! You too, Justin."

"It's okay, Mikey- that just took a bit more energy than I'm used to. And Justin’s somehow connected to me. It felt good to hug you though." I take a deep breath and feel my strength returning at the same time as we finally hear sirens. 

The police ask Mikey all sorts of questions. Even from the bedroom, Justin is sure to turn away from his body as it's gurneyed away and admittedly, I do too. Once the body is gone, Justin and I go to the kitchen island as Michael answers the questions as best he can. Mikey never takes his eyes from me- it's like he's drawing courage to face all this. Finding a body isn't easy- especially the body of someone you love, a member of your makeshift family. Justin pulls me to sit on the stools at the island and as heartbroken and guilty and sad as I am, it is so nice to feel his touch. The scene is cordoned off and CSI begins working on it. Michael is finally released to go. I grab my leather jacket not knowing when Justin will be up for the loft again and we follow Mikey. When we're alone with him, walking away from the loft, he stuffs his hands in his coat pockets. It's brisk out and he looks thoughtful.

"Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"What's it like?"


	20. Chapter 20

  
Author's notes: Finally got a new chap- not hugely excited about this one, but let me know what you think! More to come soon! Love ya!  


* * *

"Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"What's it like?"

"Being dead?"

Michael nods.

"It sucks, Mikey. But it's not terrible, really- anymore, I mean. The part I hated before Justin was by my side was not being able to touch the people I cared about on the living plane. You know me- always touchy feeley." I poke my tongue in my cheek.

He grins. "Yeah, you were- are- majorly touchy feeley. I mean MAJORLY."

Justin giggles.

I ignore him. "So, again, till Sunshine was here, it sucked to just pass through people as if they weren't really there- or I wasn’t there, I suppose."

"You just touched my cheek and hugged me, Brian." Michael protests.

"Yeah. That's a skill I developed for just that purpose. Apparently no other ghosts can touch the living plane – except Justin, of course, if he chooses to hone that skill. The ability has to do with our stupid status as a spirits having pierced the veil- I guess we’re lucky. I wanted to touch the people I cared about, and I can. But it wasn’t and isn't the same as when you're alive and touching. But anything was better than nothing, I figured.

“At first, it would take a lot out of me, the little touches. Now it’s just the big ones, like that hug we just shared, that takes more effort. But I seem to have a lot more strength with Justin on this plane with me, plus with Justin here, I can touch him solidly; touching him feels like it did in life- only it's incredibly more intense. Unbelievably more intense."

Mikey looks at me quizzically like he doesn’t understand.

Justin grins at me and then adds his thoughts. "Brian kissing me is absolutely unbelievable, it’s fucking-“ Justin searches for a word; “-it’s fucking *mystical*, Michael.” I notice that Sunshine’s practically gushing. I cover my mouth so I don’t outwardly crack up and surprisingly, he’s so wrapped up in his description he doesn’t even notice; I half expected an elbow in the ribs. “…When he kisses me, it's like I have all these tingles and sparks that deliciously touch my every nerve; I get orgasms when he gives me a simple soft kiss but the sensation is different than in life- more extreme, ethereal- it's like our souls are completely one and we embody Love." 

I smirk. Wax poetic much, Sunshine? I telepathy with a decided note of sarcasm.

Shut up, Kinney! Don't forget I can read your thoughts too, and you feel the same way and experienced the same bliss I did when we kissed and made out! Justin snaps back at me silently.

Nuh uh. No way! I respond.

Maybe not in those words, Brian. But it’s all just semantics, you fucker.

I would *never* use those words, Sunshine, semantics or not. And *certainly* not that ’embody Love’ shit. I scoff at him.

Sunshine sticks his tongue out at me. I half smile and then I lean down kiss his temple lightly. It’s interesting- I’m finding that around other people, it seems Justin and I can somewhat control our visceral sexual reaction to touching each other-- if we choose to. Like when Jason was in my loft; and now here with Mikey. When Sunshine and I are alone, it’s much more difficult. 

"Wow. Did you just have an orgasm? Have you fucked yet?" Michael asks, oblivious to Justin’s and my silent exchange. 

"Fuck, Michael. None of your--"

"No- no orgasm, Michael- we have a slim amount of self control.” Justin chuckles, interrupting me. Really, none of this is Mikey's business! Justin almost seems proud to reveal this shit. “And about fucking, frankly, we're a little afraid to. As we were making out earlier - you know, kissing, grinding together- we were having multiple orgasms from just that contact. When we pulled away we were both so dazed and panting, we were fucking spellbound. We both joked that once we actually do make love—“

 

“…once we actually *fuck*.” I interject.

“*Make Love*,” Justin insists. “Shit, Brian, shut up already!” He continues to address Mikey: “Just making out was so explosive, we both thought that once we actually do *make love*- “ he emphasizes the words and shoots a glare my way, “- were we not already dead, it would surely kill us. That our heads would explode- pun intended." Justin says, adjusting his jeans as he thinks about it. I do the same- still, I'm surprised at how much Justin is revealing to Mikey about our intimate lives.

"Whoa! Sounds hot! Tell me what it's like once you do it!" Michael exclaims, then he pauses. "If... if I can still see you and hear you, of course." He adds sadly. "So, when do you leave?"

I sigh. "Mikey, we'll be here awhile, I expect. Neither of us went to the next plane because we have unfinished business. And resolving our murders is one of those items of business- and you're intimately involved in that. Now that you're the primary target with us both gone, in order to keep you safe, we need to be able to communicate with you. Before, I could communicate with Justin on the living plane and he could communicate with you. Now that he's here with me, we have to communicate with you directly. So, until this shit is resolved, I think you'll continue to see and hear us for awhile."

"We're also still here because we want to say our goodbyes to our loved ones. I mean, no one will see us, but we'll see them. I know we've already had Brian's funeral and stuff, but he's still really very fresh on everyone's minds and in everyone's hearts." Justin says softly.

"And we all know how everyone adores Justin.” I add quietly, saddened as I recall the scene we just left in the loft. After a moment, I continue, trying to shake my morbid mood: “Then we'll see what happens as far as leaving. The sex is pretty mindboggling if our experience in simple making out is any indication- that alone would keep me here." I wink at Justin; he nudges me, chuckling.

"The sex does sound pretty awe--"

I notice a man about to pass us "... Mikey, stop talking to us there's a man coming up and it looks like you're talking to yourself. Remember, YOU can see and hear us, but no one else can."

Michael immediately shuts up but the man still eyes him oddly.

Justin laughs. 

"Anyway, Mikey, we may be here for awhile but really, would you want me to have to roam the streets of the Pitts for the rest of my afterlife?"

He sniffs a little and wipes a gloved hand on his nose. "No, I guess to you that would be hell." 

I reach out to touch his arm to stop him. He startles and looks up at me. "Mikey, we'll see each other again after I leave. We all will. And I'll always watch over you. Don't be sad. Just be happy for us- and that we’re…" I pause. Schmaltz alert, Brian! I think to myself. I see Justin grinning at me. I bite the bullet: “Just be happy that Sunshine and I are together, we aren’t alone- and that we live on even if it’s not in the literal sense.” 

Justin puts his arm around my waist for a quick squeeze of appreciation for my crap-assed Hallmark card admission. I suppose it’s good he knows that it shows how deeply I *do* care for him and that he isn’t demanding those three stupid words.

We start walking again and Michael keeps stealing glances at me that are hard to miss. I sense Justin notices this too.

"Mikey, quit staring at me like it's the last time you'll see me! Or are you staring because you got your wish? You got to see your best friend Brian Kinney in near person again?" I give him a goofy leer.

He smiles. "Yeah. It's really nice, Brian. If possible, you're even more beautiful- it's like you have some kind of light inside you. I'm going to miss you Brian, seeing you, watching you pick up any trick you want, watching you turn all heads when you enter Babylon like a king, I'll miss listening to you bitch and gripe and snark and regale the gang with stories about all the orgies you've engaged in." I notice Justin's growing irritation at Mikey's gushing and he starts to hang back; I sigh. I take Sunshine's hand and yank him up next to me where he belongs. "I'll miss your blunt honesty, your hidden soft side, your sense of humor and sense of morality. I'll miss the way you secretly and selflessly help your friends when it really matters. I'll miss your beauty." Now he's almost sobbing.

Justin sighs in exasperation.

Sunshine, he’s overreacting out of grief. He’s idealizing me in death- please don’t be upset. I telepathy. 

Bull, Brian. You just don’t get it is all. Justin silently answers in a grumpy manner.

What do you care what he thinks? He’s no threat to you in any way, shape or form. I mean, look at the situation here, Justin. 

Then I address Michael to set him straight; he is still sobbing softly. “Fuck me! Michael, calm the fuck down and breathe. I was never this ideal you have of me! I was an arrogant asshole who everyone loved to hate! Fuck! Stop crying- we have a lot of memories- just keep them and you'll be okay- stop pining like a puppy. Honestly." 

Suddenly I see a truck ahead veering towards Michael. "Michael!!" He looks up and I instinctively jump in front of the truck to push him out of the way with all the strength I can muster as a ghost; I look up and am relieved when I see him slumped against the brick side of a building, panting. 

"What the fuck!"

All I saw was that the driver was dark and small. *Not* Ben-like. "I suspect it was Ethan, Michael. And I think this is just a warning but you need to get to Horvath and fast- no more of this leasurely strolling- run!" Obviously, I can't 'transport' with a novel ghost and a living human so I run along side them, frustrated by how slow he and Justin are going; sometimes I forget the advantages to having long legs. Sunshine and Michael are in shape, but they're simply unable to take the same strides. I spot a cab- "Michael, hail that taxi!"

He flags it down and we get to Deb's safely. I suddenly realize that we haven't told anyone about what happened. Not that Justin or I could have, but holding each other so desperately all afternoon, neither of us even thought about it. The pain of it all and then the shock of Mikey being able to see us along with all the cops and activity, I selfishly forgot that people need to know about what happened to Sunshine. "Michael? Listen. No one knows what has happened yet as far as I know. Are you going to be okay breaking it to them?"

"I'm going to have to be."


	21. Chapter 21

  
Author's notes: Next installment :)  


* * *

We walk into the house to find that Debbie is crying on the sofa with Carl soothing her. Jennifer Taylor is there beside herself as are Emmett and Ted. "Michael!! Where have you been!!"

"I think you know, Ma."

"I'm sorry Michael. I had to break the news to them. The precinct called me not too long ago. They said you gave a statement. Are you alright? Finding a body isn't easy." Carl says.

"I'll be alright. He's in a better place now." 

I smile sadly and squeeze Justin's shoulder. "You okay, Sunshine?"

"Mom looks like she's going to melt."

"I know. You looked a lot like that after I was killed. And this afternoon, you looked the same. Fragile, broken, utterly drained. It's really hard to see."

"You looked like that too, Brian. This afternoon. I've never seen you like that."

"I don't think I've ever been like that. You were too young to go yet."

"You were too, Brian."

I ignore that. "We can leave if it's too painful right now."

He looks at the heartbreaking scene around him and nods. "I just can't take this right now."

"Michael, we're going to go for awhile, okay? Don't forget to tell Horvath about the truck nearly hitting you and that you need around the clock protection. And have someone call Daphne- she was Justin's best friend. His mother would know how to reach her; she must have forgotten to call her in her grief."

Justin smiles. Probably touched because I remembered about Daphne. What a sap. Mikey nods mutely and turns to Deb to comfort her. 

I pull Justin to the door and he balks as he starts to go through it. "How do I get through this thing? It's like it's trying to merge with me or something!" He gestures towards the door.

I smile. "It won't- you'll get used to it. Just kind of jump through it for now- you'll make it, I promise."

He looks at me with trust in his eyes and nods. "One thing about you, Brian- you keep your promises."

"When I can. C'mon!" I pull him through it quickly and he gasps. "See?" I say when we find ourselves on the front porch.

He half smiles and looks behind him. "I'm sorry. That scene was too much for me right now."

"I know. I went through it. It's hard to cause people so much pain."

"You went through it alone, though. I'm glad you're here. You being here takes so much of the sting out of all this."

"I'm glad too."  
________________________________________  
POV: JUSTIN

I shiver as I stand there on the front porch of the Novotny's, Brian's arm around me- it's so good feeling him again- and it's even better than in life. There's some new kind of electricity there. 

"Brian, did you keep reliving it? Your death?"

He gets a pained look. "Well, sort of. I had thought I'd run after the guy only to come back to find you crying over my body."

"I just keep feeling that panic of seeing Ethan wielding that steak knife. It was almost like he was enjoying it. He kept repeating how if I won't be with him, I won't be with anyone." I feel Brian's reassuring grasp tightening.

"Well, the fucker's obsessed. Were you in pain? I didn't really feel anything- maybe it happened too fast in my case."

"Not exactly pain. Surprise. Panic. Shock. Fear. I couldn't believe what he was doing."

"I wish I'd gotten there a minute earlier, Sunshine." Brian's voice is hushed.

"Brian, you tried to get there. As a ghost, I'm not sure you would have been able to do anything. Besides, Jason said it was meant to be, remember? You weren't meant to prevent it."

"I don't care. I could've. That telekinetic thing- I've gotten pretty strong with that. I probably could have thrown a knife at him, pushed him out the door, pushed you out the door. Something. I could have saved you."

"Brian, you've saved me so many times, it's remarkable really." I kiss him softly. "But Brian, Ethan would have simply come back. There was a really crazed look in his eyes, Brian. I don't believe that there's anything you could have done that would have stopped what he did."

"I just wish I'd realized that he was probably at the loft instead at PIFA. That's where I assumed he was when I couldn't find him. I mean, it's the middle of the day when most people have classes. It was then that this most awful, God-awful dread hit me like a ton of bricks and I started back to the loft. And suddenly I was actually there- Jason hadn't told me about that power the first time I met him. I was there in an instant but it was still too late.

"Coming into the loft, I first saw you- *this* you- " he points at me "- on the sofa and I was going yell my head off at you for leaving the door open. Then I saw the last of that funnel of light as I entered and I knew. And then it immediately fell into place what happened." Brian sighs. "Well, now you'll always be younger than me and more beautiful than me. That sucks." He jokes weakly.

"Hardly more beautiful, Brian. But yeah: younger." I get a small smile. "But we'll also always be together."

"Cut the schmaltzy crap, Sunshine. I've had my fill in the last 2 1/2 to 3 weeks." He says gently, kissing me on the head. "Let's walk for awhile. Maybe we'll meet some other gay ghosts and we'll score an orgy."


	22. Chapter 22

  
Author's notes: :)  


* * *

I swat at him as he leads me down the porch steps. "Hey, can we go to the diner? Something familiar that isn't filled with grief and angst would be kind of nice."

"Sure. I'll take a ghost turkey sandwich, no mayo."

I'm starting to feel less weirded, more at ease. It's because Brian is here and trying to make it not as intense for me. But I don't know how Brian did this alone for 2 1/2 weeks. If it weren't for him being here, I'd be a fall-down mess. It must have been so lonely and scary, watching everyone mourn you, anguished beyond reason, and not be able to comfort them. No human contact. He seemed to hang around the loft most often- around me. God, if I had seen Brian in as much pain as I'd been in and had not been able to do anything about it, I don't know what I would have done. But he survived and he stayed by me, stayed strong. As he always is. And now he's here with me.

We're a few blocks from the diner. "You got quiet all of a sudden. You alright, Justin?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I was just thinking about how strong you must have been all those weeks being unable to comfort the people around you. Doing this all alone, with no idea what would happen. If I'd seen you in the state I was in after it happened I would have been beside myself."

"It was hard at first, yeah. It was really lonely. Scary. You walking around the loft naked didn't even always help." He adds, trying to make light of it. 

"Seriously, Brian. I'd be freaking out if you weren't here. I'm so glad you are."

He simply rolls his eyes and kisses my head, inhaling the scent of my hair. "Ready?" We're at the entrance to the diner. "Here's another door. Come on!" He yanks me through and I start to feel like I could get the hang of this. 

We stop and see everyone talking in hushed voices.

"Oh, Christ. Already?" Brian mutters.

"What?"

"You're the latest gossip. Ethan must have spread word trying to deflect attention from himself."

'Did you hear? Brian Kinney's twink bought it too! Can you believe it? The Legend of Liberty Avenue and the King of Babylon killed- within a month of each other!'

'I heard he had hardly left Brian's loft since Brian was killed!'

'It was supposedly a stabbing with one of Brian's own knives - at the loft! It was apparently a burglary.'

"Burglary? Justin, did you notice anything gone?"

"Brian, I was so overwhelmed I didn't notice anything but you and your arms and our tears."

Brian snorts. "We'll check that out with Michael later. You want to leave, Sunshine? This kind of gossipy shit is still going on about me- it doesn't die down... it gets annoying. With you, I'm sure it'll last forever..."

I grin and pull Brian through the door and into Woody's. There, perched on a stool at the bar eating a late lunch is Mysterious Marilyn. Her back stiffens as if she senses us. It's practically deserted in the bar. She turns.

"Aw, Sunshine honey... I'm so sorry..." She says quietly. Despite the fact that she can't really feel me, I give her a hug, knowing she knows. She dabs her eyes. "I can't see you of course but I know now you're with the one you love more than anything. You're with Brian now."

"God, maybe she *is* more than a delusional drag queen." Brian mutters. "But I wish everyone would shut up about this love shit. Sure, we're close, but... Gawd, people. It's like a Hallmark commercial around here!"

I frown at him. "After all this, you still won't say it? My God, even in death you're a stubborn ass in complete denial!"

"He still acts like he did when he was alive, doesn't he Sunshine- albeit a little softer since his death and especially since yours?" Marilyn says softly. "Well, believe you me, he can be like that all he wants to, honey, but remember I channeled him when you were alive and he was a spirit and there is no doubt in my mind that his love for you equals yours for him. There is no doubt that you two were destined to be the next pierce the veil legend. And that's a love between two people that is stronger than any other kind in the world."

Brian and I look at her in surprise. Then Brian frowns. "Bitch." He mutters. 

I stick my tongue out at him.

She chuckles- I know she can't hear us, but she is remarkably clairvoyant. I wish people would take her more seriously.

I give her another brief hug in thanks and surprisingly, Brian relents and does so too. I look at him like he's grown two heads. "Hey, gimme a break! She gave me the chance to touch you by channeling me; being able to touch you that one time after so long is reason enough to thank her- even if she does piss me off with all the sappy love talk. I must admit, it was strange to be in her body, feeling like myself but seeing those long acrylic nails in your hair and kissing you to then find a lipstick smudge on your face."

I laugh. "I closed my eyes. Wasn't sure I could take you as a drag queen."

"You're welcome sweeties. Take care- visit again if you like." Marilyn says quietly.

I take Brian's hand and we walk out of Woody's. And there, walking up the street, is Ethan. I tense up in fear. Brian tenses up in utter rage and he pulls away from me and pushes Ethan into an alley. I rush up to see him pummeling a very confused and very frightened Ethan, who can't see anything but air but feels Brian's blows.

"Brian stop it! Brian!" I try pulling him off the dirtbag. "Brian, let the law deal with him!" He finally stops and looks down in sheer hatred at Ethan who is bleeding and looking around wide-eyed trying to figure out what just happened to him. "Brian, come on. He's not worth it." I can tell that took a lot out of Brian as he slumps against the wall, giving a trashcan lid a kick that sends it flying, scaring Ethan even more.

"Who's there?" Ethan whispers. "What's going on?"

I take Brian's hand as he's huffing in exhaustion. From what he's said, touching the living plane takes a lot out of our 'spirits' and that was one hell of a demonstration of how good he *has* gotten at it. "Are you okay, Bri?"

"I want to kill the bastard." He seethes.

"He'll get what's coming to him."

"For killing two gay men? I'm not so sure, Justin."

"With Carl in charge of the investigation, yes. Especially when it's the Royal Couple of Liberty Avenue." I smile, knowing he hates that people think of us that way. Particularly because he still likes being the Stud of Liberty Avenue. 

He chuffs a laugh. "I hate that."

"I know."

Ethan gets up painfully, still swinging his head around to see who the hell it was who just pounced him. Brian steps up to him as I try to keep him back. Honestly, I wouldn't mind if Ethan were dead. If any of them were- Ethan, Ben or Brad. But the attack has taken its toll on Brian and it's just not worth it. "Brian, come on. Let's go sit down. Besides, don't stoop to his level." I lead him back to Woody's. There at the bar is Ben, checking his watch. I feel Brian tense again.

"Fucker's late..." Ben mutters to himself.

"Let's watch this little dog and pony show, shall we, Sunshine? See what else we can find out. Sometimes it's nice to be invisible with no one able to hear you."

I'm not sure it's such a good idea but I sit at the bar. Marilyn eyes Ben and gets up to move to a table further away. Ethan walks in, dazed with a black eye beginning to form and a bloody lip. Ben stands abruptly. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I have no idea! I was walking up the street and I was blindsided, pushed into an alley and beaten! I didn't see anyone! It was like... It was like being beaten up by someone who wasn't even there!"

I happen to glance at Marilyn who gets a small smile on her face, having overheard Ethan.

"That's ridiculous!" Ben says. I sense Brian's about to kick him in the shins to prove him wrong and I put my hand on his knee to still him.

“Brian… shhh. I love you.”

Brian scoffs and I smile.

"What, you think I'm lying? Look at me!" He picks up a cocktail napkin and dabs at his mouth. He orders a scotch on the rocks when the bartender comes over and when it comes, he puts the cool glass up to his sore eye.

"Listen, Ben. We have a problem."

"I heard. Justin's dead. What the fuck happened?"

"He knew. Which means Michael probably knows."

"Did he tell you he and Michael knew?"

"No, he tried to deny it. But he had Brad and my yearbook out, with us labeled as 'S.#1' and 'S.#2'. He tried to play it off like those were sketches he was going to do..."

"So? Maybe they were..."

"He knew Brad killed Kinney. It was labeled 'S.#2'- he said he was going to draw it and take it to the police. Why would I be labeled 'S.#1' if he's so devoted to his dead boyfriend? Brian's killer would be 'S.#1'! Justin would be sketching Brad first and running off to the cops in record time. Plus, why bother fucking sketch it at ALL? He had a damned photograph! I mean, Brad hasn't really aged that much since high school! Finally, Ben, it wasn't even his handwriting. The "S's" would have been in cursive, not block letters. Justin was quirky like that." 

I wince. I am quirky like that. The guy was obsessive and noticed everything about me while we were dating. I chalked it up to young dumb love. Little did I know it was crazed lunacy. 

"You and your stupid snobby cursive..." Brian mutters. I swat him.

"Was there a picture of me there? I assume you're thinking the "S" stands for 'Suspect'?" Ben asks.

"Yeah. But no, I didn't see anything about you. But you obviously wouldn't be in that yearbook. Maybe there's another picture of you I didn't see." Ethan answers.

Ben looks thoughtful. "So you just stabbed him?"

"He was *lying* to me, Ben! I made it look like a burglary. Kinney had some nice things."

"Well, I wouldn't keep them, Ethan. If you become a suspect and have his shit, you're doomed."

"Ben, I assume that you realize that Michael probably knows too- about you and me both. And they may have gone to the police."

"Michael would never believe I would do anything to harm anyone. Certainly not cause harm to his best friend. And again, there wasn't a picture of me there. Just you and Brad."

"So, you're just going to leave me swinging here?"

"You got the yearbook, didn't you? Besides, this whole thing was your idea, Ethan!"

"You hated Brian as much as I did! You fucking called him a whore, didn't you? Slammed him against a locker and called him a whore!"

"So? Michael knows the steroids were the issue at that time- other than that time, I've been as gentle as a lamb and have never come between him and Brian. Besides, Brian *was* a whore too beautiful for his own good who Michael could not seem to get over since meeting the kid at 14. And you should have seen Brian after Justin left him for you, Ethan. Brian was whoring and drinking like I'd never seen him. And he would always be coming over and interrupting Michael and me using his 'wittle key' as he put it, stealing Michael away every night- sometimes literally, like to the Underwear Party." He shudders. "I don't even want to know what Michael watched Brian do that night." 

Brian turns to me and grins slightly. "He definitely wouldn't want to know. I wish I could tell the fucker."

"But what was I going to do, say 'no'?" Ben continues, oblivious to Brian's comment of course. "That's what Michael's last boyfriend, David, did and that relationship ended up doomed. No, you don't get in the way of Brian and his 'Mikey'. Until now. Now Kinney is gone for good. And you've eliminated Michael's other little issue- his rivalry with Justin. Watching the jealous little snits Michael would go into whenever that kid was around got really old."

I glance at Brian who has rested his forearms on the bar and is slouched over with his chin on the ends of his balled fists which are stacked on the shiny wood. His eyes are now closed but I know he's paying close attention and that this is hurting him. He moves so his chin is on the bar and his eyes are resting against his fists. "Christ." He mutters.

Ben sighs. "Look, it's just that Brian was a whore, his only love is- was- Justin, and Michael needed him out of the way in order to fully focus on our relationship. I never got between them but with him gone- listen, Michael would never believe I'd hurt his best friend. And now with no Brian, Michael will be fully mine."

"And you don't think that if Brad and I go down, we won't take you down with us?" Ethan spits.

"As I said- Michael would never believe that I'd hurt anyone, especially not someone so special to Michael as his Brian. Never. It'd be your word against mine. And he probably knows about you. Maybe he wrote the 'S.#1'- you ever think of that?"

"I cannot believe you Ben! You two-timing ass!"

"Sorry. But now that I have both Brian and Justin out of the way, things are looking up. You know? Even after Justin left Brian, Michael wouldn't let go of this jealousy thing. He hated Justin for what he did to his hero and the Love of His Life. Remember at the anniversary party for Lindsay and Mel? That punch Brian threw that landed Michael on the ground?"

My ears perk up. I've always wondered what that was about. Brian lifts his head momentarily and looks at me to see how I'm reacting to it. I rub my hand on his back reassuringly.

Ethan doesn't respond. He just grits his teeth.

"Michael was bitching to Brian, you know, 'how dare Justin show up after what he did to him at the Rage party'. At a party Brian was generous enough to throw FOR Justin and Michael. Brian kept trying to tell Michael to leave it alone. The Great Magnanomous Kinney kept saying there was no reason to shun Justin or shut him out. Michael was pissed though and finally said to Brian that he should have left Justin for dead on that cold cement floor at his prom."

I get a shiver.

"And so Brian clocked his Mikey. Trying to protect a man who didn't even love him anymore from a man who loved him more than his own life. Brian was trouble, Ethan. I'm glad he's gone. For Michael's sake, especially. Because you know what? It infuriated me that Michael simply forgave the so-called Stud aka Whore of Liberty Avenue for this. I had thought that that day would be a watershed. But no. It was still Brian Brian Brian for Michael. And for Brian, apparently, it was still Justin first, 'Mikey' second. At least when it came to anything related to the bashing. And that hurt Michael. And I offered him all of my love and it still wasn't enough. But now Brian's gone, Justin's gone, and Michael's back with me to build him up and make him realize how much he can't live without me. And he knows that I wouldn't hurt anyone. Again- I've been very patient and kind and never stood between him and Brian."

Brian's head is back on his fists and he doesn't look at me. I put my hand on his shoulder. For a long time, I had been such a shit to Brian after going to Ethan; hell, even at that anniversary party I had been a shit. And for all that, he had simply told me he hoped I get what I want and then had defended me to his best friend- earning him a place in the dog house to all his friends. But he never told anyone what Michael had said that day to earn that punch. Instead, he was content to have everyone continue to view him as an animal. 

"Brian, you know, when he said you were trying to protect a man who didn't even love you anymore- that's never been true. I never stopped loving you. NEVER. And thank you for defending me to Michael. I know I was kind of a shit to you back then."

He snickers, raises himself up on his elbows on the bar and scrubs his face. "Nevermind." He says simply.

"I saw Michael the next day. He looked pretty bad."

"I gave him a steak that was worth like $22/pound to put on his eye; and then eat of course. He apologized for what he said so don't hold it against Mikey. He was just trying to be a good friend."

I smile. Brian's still trying to mend the rift between Michael and me. "I won't. I won‘t hold it against him." I whisper.

Ethan is talking all of a sudden. "So, you really aren't going to be involved if the shit hits the fan..."

"You're on your own, Ethan. I have my Michael, you have two murders." Ben gets up, throws a couple of bills on the table and leaves. 

Ethan, now seething, sits there with his eye fully puffy and black and blue now. "I'll show you, you little fucking two-timing bastard. You think you have your Michael? Think again!"

Brian sits up fully and looks at Ethan. "Justin," he says, his voice full of fear. "I get the feeling that the truck this afternoon was a warning. But this is real. This Ethan of yours is a vicious killer and Michael's in real danger now!" He gets up. "We gotta go warn him and get Horvath's attention that this is serious. If he hasn't put a guard out we gotta get him to NOW."


	23. Chapter 23

  
Author's notes: Next chap- please lemme know what you think! :D  


* * *

POV: BRIAN

I focus on getting to the Novotny's as I exit the door to Woody's and suddenly find myself without Justin and on the Novotny's porch. I forgot about Justin and transported just myself. I focus on Justin and am suddenly standing in front of him at Woody's as he looks around a little fearfully, presumably searching for me.

"Justin!" 

He swings around and his face melts into relief when he sees me. "Where did you go? You were here and then you were gone!"

"Okay, Justin, listen. Concentrate on the Novotny's house, on Mikey." I take his hand. "Concentrate on that with me. Come on- focus all your thoughts on getting there. Don't close your eyes- look at me."

He focuses on my face. "Brian you look so scared."

"Justin, we don't have time to talk- concentrate! No, don't close your eyes! Look into my own." I finally see something click with Justin and I look around- and we're on the Novotny's porch.

"Wow!"

"Yeah. Whatever...." I hurry over and find myself about to knock on the door and I can't help snicker. I suppose I'm a creature of habit at the Novotny's, automatically trying to knock at their door. It's then that I notice there's a cop car out front- the guard. I'm glad Carl is really taking us seriously. We didn't have much to offer him in proof, given that it's based on hearsay from a ghost. That's good that he's listening. I take Justin's hand and we walk in and up the stairs. We pass Deb who is tearfully preparing food in the kitchen. "Mikey?" I call.

"Brian?" Michael calls back. 

I breathe a sigh of relief just hearing his voice. At the same time, I wince that Deb might hear him talking to me, a dead man, a ghost, and take him to a mental clinic. I walk into his room. Justin hovers outside the door, apparently thinking I want privacy with Mikey. "Justin, it's okay. Come on in." I tell him. 

"Brian? Brian, what's wrong?" He sounds frightened.

"I'll tell you in a minute, Mikey- nothing urgent right now. Mikey, just be really careful from now on, OK?" I'm not ready to go into all we just heard just yet- he spooks so easily and I don't want to scare him more - I feel better knowing that the cop car is outside as promised so he should be OK, for the moment. So I decide on a little chatting first. 

He nods that he'll be careful. I notice Michael has empty photo albums everywhere and is carefully filling and labeling them with photos of him and me. I look at the pictures. "Remember this one, Brian?" He grins oddly as he picks it up.

"Yeah, that's when I first bought my guitar. I worked at fucking Superfresh two years to afford that. And then we go out and play and really suck."

"We weren't THAT bad."

"Mikey, we got kicked out of the Battle of the Bands at Woody's! Not exactly a big venue and we still got canned!" I pause. "That was kind of amazing really, that they even let us play there, since we were underaged- really underaged."

He grins. "It was because of your looks, you know that." 

I roll my eyes. I notice Justin perusing the pictures- he can't move objects yet, so he just looks at the ones that are spread out. "What's this one?" He asks me.

"Aw- lookit! This is when Michael decided it would be cool to play soccer like me. Remember Mikey? You did it to be more 'popuwur' like you always thought I was- but I wasn't. Although, Sunshine, when I tried to teach him how to dribble the ball down the field, he kept tripping over his feet!"

"Brian, shut up about the dribbling... it's embarrassing! And you were too popular! And I actually tried out for soccer to be around you more- your popularity sometimes rubbed off on me."

"Brian, you were fucking hot!" Justin breathes looking closely at the soccer picture, getting on the floor to look more closely at the photo that he can't pick up. 

"Justin, I was just a lanky, skinny, gangly tall kid who liked to play soccer." I pause. "And are you implying I'm not hot now?" I add, poking my tongue in my cheek.

He gives an exasperated huff and a grin. "Brian! Of course not! I've just never seen you all decked out in a soccer outfit running all scrappy and sweaty, kicking the ball. Hey-- Which one's you, Michael-? I can't tell, Brian's kind of the focus of this photo."

"This was for the yearbook, actually. Michael begged the guy who took the picture to make a copy. Dunno why- he was getting a fucking yearbook. Mikey's over here standing there. Michael, did you play that game?"

Michael crosses his arms and pretends to look glum. "Briefly." 

"Well, you had some really good games that season, Mikey."

"Till they kicked me off the team, Brian! God! Your memory is so fucked up! The only reason I got on the fucking team was because you convinced Coach Donovan I had potential!"

I roll my eyes. "Actually, if you recall correctly, I *blew* Coach Donovan!"

"Oh, thanks! That makes me feel so much better! You blew him and I made the team- for a whopping 3 games!"

"I guess my blowjob technique needed a little improvement, eh? Well, I *was* just 14."

Michael tosses a pillow at me and laughs- the pillow, needless to say, passes right through me. "Hey, why did you come over, Brian? I mean, I love looking through pictures with you and Justin, but there must be another reason."

I sober up. "Mikey, Ethan is really seething at Ben right now- Ben said you would never believe he'd hurt me in any way and so he told Ethan he was no longer in on the plan, and he and Brad were on their own if they got caught. Their word against yours and Ben's. I just wanted to make sure you got the cops to pay attention." I say. "I saw the car out front- that's good. Tomorrow I want you to tell Carl about the fact that Ben is going to act like he wasn't involved in my murder- and that Ethan is a real threat to you because of that. 

"Ben hates me, you know that? I hardly even *knew* the guy but he thinks I'm always messing you and him up. He hates Justin too, it turns out."

"Why Justin?"

"He says you get- er, got- jealous of Sunshine, Mikey." I notice Justin looking suddenly uncomfortable.

"Well, I guess I was. I could see how much you loved- love- Justin and I didn't like what he did to you with Ethan; I didn't like that you loved him and not me. And then he tossed you away it seemed. I thought he should really see how you showed him you loved- love- him; but I can tell he knows that now. I can see how much you love each other."

I roll my eyes. "I know Mikey. But this is all Ben's perception. He's glad Brad killed me and Ethan killed Justin- and the crux is that Ethan's furious with Ben for abandoning the plan-- which means, in his twisted psyche, you're a real target. He'll hurt Ben by killing you. He's not going to be trying to warn you anymore, Mikey- I think he really wants you gone- dead. He is that angry and hates Ben that much. We heard him."

"And he's that psychotic." Justin adds.

Michael takes a moment to process all of this. "Ethan wants me dead? But, I *do* believe that Ben was in on your murder, Brian. I believe that he wanted you dead because you told me. If you saw him talking about the hit, I believe you, Brian, not him."

I look at him, wondering if he realizes what he just said. And I watch it sink in. "Hm. I guess I have always and continue to put you first before Ben." He laughs humorlessly. "And that got you and Justin killed."

"No, Mikey, don't think that way. You can't help how you feel- and we've known each other for years and years." I gesture to all the pictures laying around us. "I trust you as much as you trust me."

"More than Justin?"

Justin looks up sharply at that. It seems Mikey's not really focused on the fact that Justin is in the room, quietly listening.

I glance at Justin. "More than Justin sometimes. For example- remember Ethan? The crazed lunatic in question?"

Justin looks away. "God I wish that would stop coming up all the time." He mutters.

"Justin, the fact that you left didn't bug me- you were doing what you wanted and needed to do. It's that you broke the rules you forced me to follow and tried to keep it from me. I'm just using it as an example where I listened to Mikey and didn't trust you- you weren't being honest, Sunshine."

"Fine. I know. I might have been eventually though." He says sheepishly and a little resentfully.

"I know." I put my hand over his on the bedspread so he knows I'm saying most of this stuff for Michael's benefit- I try to tell him so with my mind and he gets a look of understanding. Justin's catching on fast to this telepathy thing.

Thanks, Brian. He says silently and I grin at him. Seems we don't need to speak anymore, huh?

Justin, let's talk this way later. Michael wouldn't appreciate being left out.

Michael's watching me intently. "What- can you read minds or something? What are you and Justin saying?"

I look at him. I knew it- he's feeling a little resentful and wants the attention back on him. "Yeah, Mikey- sometimes I can read minds." And as I read his mind, as much as I downplayed everyone telling me how much he was in love with me, I now have to admit to myself that it's true. 

"Er, Mikey, as I was saying, I would never lie to you, okay? Never on something this important. So be sure that you tell Carl tomorrow, OK?"

He smiles somewhat sadly. "I know you wouldn't lie. I'll tell Carl."

I grin as best I can muster. "Now, let's look through some more pictures, okay? This is getting heavy and it's been a day of fucking high drama. And Justin probably hasn't seen the pics."

Actually, Brian, I went through all of Michael's pictures when I stayed in his room, Justin tells me silently.

He doesn't need to know that, Sunshine, I telepath to him as I flip through pictures as though I'm intent on what I'm seeing and not 'talking' to Justin.

Okay. I don't mind looking through them again. Most were of you. Never saw that cool soccer picture before though so I must have missed some. You were fucking HOT.

Stalker. I snark silently.

Justin laughs. 

Michael's grinning as he flips through the pictures; I'm still pretending to be doing the same while Justin and I communicate without speaking aloud. "Remember this one Brian?"

"Oh, God!" I show it to Justin. "This is Mikey and me camping at Rainbow Lake. It rained the whole time we were out there- we couldn't find dry wood for a fire so we used some of the synthetic cum I'd made for chemistry class like lighter fluid."

"Why'd you take synthetic cum camping?" Sunshine asks wisely.

"Eh. Just to fuck around - it was like glue and we were going to try to build shit with sticks. See? I was a geek too..." I stick my tongue out at Mikey.

"Actually Brian, that's what *I* wanted to do. You were going to go hiking. It was just raining too hard for you to."

He's always doing that- making sure it's known that he was the geek. It drives me nuts. His self-esteem is based on this geek theme and while he was and is a bit offbeat, he was and a cool guy. "Jeez, Mikey. You make yourself sound like the only goofball between the two of us all the time. Stop it. *I* made the fake cum- how dorky is that? Anyway, we tried it on the wood and as I said, it turned out it was not only like glue, but flammable too. Worked pretty well- sure as hell kept us warm. Fuck it was cold." I laugh.

I notice Justin grinning at me out of the corner of my eye and I look at him suspiciously. "What?"

"You're just so sweet with Michael, and I've never seen you this animated talking about your childhood."

"Well, the times I spent with Mikey were the good times - the rest of the time was all about beatings and fatherly drunken rages. I don't talk about them much."

Justin's smile lessens for a moment.

I smile at him and wink; I turn back to Mikey. "How 'bout this one? Remember this?" 

"Oh God! Don't show it to Justin!" Michael implores. So I promptly do.

"Is that Michael in tights and a fairy suit?"

I turn to Michael. "*This* is why you weren't as popular as you could be in school, Mikey! Sunshine, this is Michael playing Puck in a Midsummer's Night's Dream. At 15, he was basically outing himself to the whole school that he was a fairy. God, Michael, if I were you, I'd have torn this up!"

"Ma said if I did, she'd kill me."

Justin points to another picture of a naked toddler being sprayed with a hose by a younger Debbie. "That's before my time with the Novotny's. Mikey, is this you as a very young exhibitionist?"

Michael blushes. "That shouldn't be in this box."

I've not seen many very young pictures of Michael and I study it. "You were a cute kid, Mikey. And Deb sure looks different. No wig, practically skinny."

Michael snatches it from me and tosses it on the floor. He roots around in the box. 

"Do ghosts sleep?" Justin asks me out of the blue.

"Huh?"

"It's just, I'm getting kind of tired. I was wondering if we sleep. And where we would tonight if the loft is a crime scene."

I shudder at the thought of going to the loft to sleep. I push the thought away. "I haven't slept a whole lot, but some since it happened." I answer. "I just sleep when I'm tired. And we could probably go to a four star hotel and find an empty room. I have no interest in sleeping at the loft."

"What the hell? Stay here!" Michael says, handing over another soccer picture of me. This one was in the school paper. I absently show it to Justin who appears immediately fascinated. I smirk and plop it on the spread in front of him since he can't pick things up yet.

"Where would we crash? The sofa?" I ask Michael. We could crash *any*where- but Mikey can see us, and I know Justin wouldn't really like him to see us making out or fucking.

"Why not the sofa?" He says, excited- I think he just wants us to stick around.

I glance at Justin who shrugs at the thought as though to say 'sure'. He is still seemingly mesmirized by this other soccer picture of me. He reaches for it and it moves a little. 

"Hey, Sunshine, you moved the picture!" I exclaim. "See- you just have to focus all your emotions and energy, and you can move things. It's second nature to me now- you're on your way." 

He looks up and gives me a big smile.

"Is that a big deal, to move things?" Michael asks.

"It takes time for a ghost to develop that skill, Mikey."

"But you pushed me out of the way of that truck!" Michael exclaims. "It's like you can move anything on the living plane."

"I've been dead longer."

"And Kemp says Brian's kind of exceptional as a ghost." Justin adds.

I roll my eyes. "Fuck off." I mutter.

"What, that's what he said before he went up!" Justin exclaims.

"'Went up'?" Mikey asks.

"Went into the light. Went to the next plane. I dunno." I say offhandedly.

"Oh, cool! I didn't know that was real! You always hear about---"

"Michael! Are you talking to someone in there!" Deb's voice comes from the hallway.

"Fuck! No, Ma- just talking to myself!"

"Michael, come down and eat something! You have to get through this without starving to death, you know! You've hardly eaten since Brian... since Brian died." Her voice is choked off by a sob. "And now Sunshine..." I hear her add. I look at Justin and we both sigh a little.

I lean over and kiss him and look at Mikey. "Go on, Michael. Be there for your mother. It sounds like she's hurting."

"OK, Ma! I'll be down in a sec!" Michael quickly stuffs the photos into the box and puts it in his closet. "You guys can keep looking through them if you want- or come down and hang out with me, Ma and Vic. Whatever."

\---------------------------------------------------------

POV: JUSTIN

After Michael goes downstairs to eat, Brian smiles at me. "How're you doing?" He asks gently.

I lean over and give him a small peck on the cheek. "Tired. Sad. Dead."

"Melodramatic." Brian adds.

"I deserve to be. I'm dead for crying out loud." I go over to the box of old photos Michael stuffed back into the closet and pick out one of Brian playing soccer, running down the field and apparently showing Michael how to dribble the ball- although the photographer was decidedly taking a picture of Brian. 

"You're getting pretty good at moving stuff, Sunshine." He says, ignoring my comment.

I drop the picture on the quilt, unable to hold it any longer. I sit down next to it, near Brian. I grin at him. "You were pretty hot in high school and college, all decked out in your soccer gear, Bri." I say looking at the picture.

"'Pretty' hot?" 

"OK- you were fucking hot." I admit looking at the picture. "You think Michael would miss this one if I took it?"

"You think going downstairs carrying that picture is such a good idea? To Deb and Vic, it'd look like a floating photo traveling through the air."

Oh. Right. I sigh. "Let's go downstairs. I want to see Deb and Vic." I say simply. Brian nods, stands and pulls me up with him. Then he catches me in his arms and I lean against him. "I am so fucking happy that I can touch you again..." I mutter, reveling in his hard body and wrapping my arms around him. I glance to the photo on the bedspread. "You know, besides your body filling out beautifully as you grew up, you really don't look that different than you did when you were 15, Brian." And he really doesn't. His body is stronger, a little taller and certainly more developed, but he looks almost the very same. Long, lean, athletic, beautiful features.

Brian smirks. "Neither do you, Sunshine."

I chuff a brief laugh and give him a squeeze. "Very funny."

"Besides, you're basically lusting after a child by drooling over that picture. C'mon." He says, pulling me through the door. "Let's go downstairs." It's funny- Brian doesn't even notice closed doors anymore. I still have the instinct to open them.

I follow him down and we find Vic, Michael and Deb sitting at the kitchen table. It's gloomily quiet- like I've never seen it at Deb's before. All we hear is the clink of utensils on plates. Michael looks up and flashes a smile at us and then looks at his plate. "Ma, this was Brian's favorite. Justin's too."

I look at his plate and see that he's eating chicken parmesan. 

"I know, sweetie. I did it in honor of them." Then she puts her napkin down and puts her head in her hands. "I just can't believe it!" She sobs.

"Sis, Sis, come on, now..." Vic says quietly, patting her shoulder.

"How could this have happened? They were murdered within a month of each other; my son needs a round-the-clock guard; Ben is at large and had Brian killed... My poor Brian and Sunshine... So young... and they were finally doing so well together. Happy. In love."

Brian and I look on helplessly as Michael and Vic try to comfort Debbie. Michael looks at us sadly, wanting to tell her that we're right there but knowing he can't. I feel Brian's arm around me. "God, this sucks." He says quietly. I just nod and lean against him. "I want to fucking kill Ethan. You should have let me polish him off in that alley earlier. Mikey'd be safe, you'd be avenged and he'd be fucking dead."

"Brian, Michael has a guard, we're at least together again, and killing him means you're no different than he is."

"I'd like to think I'm different."

"You know what I mean, Brian."

He shrugs and sits on the couch. "You still tired, Sunshine?" He pulls me down next to him and gives me a kiss. We've been remarkably chaste minus our little make-out session earlier- which was more like a cum-fest. It's amazing the feelings we experience on this plane. It's like everything is 100 times more intense; and there's a light in Brian's eyes I don't remember being there when he was alive. It's beautiful. I sit there staring at him and he shifts. "Penny for your thoughts?" He smirks.

I snap out of it. "Nothing. I mean, I was just thinking how there's like a light inside you now. And how everything feels so much more intense than... you know, before."

Brian smiles at me, all snark aside now. "You have a light inside you, too. I noticed it right away. It's very pretty." He says that last sentence prissily and I roll my eyes. I lean over and kiss him; it intensifies and when we part we're both breathless. Just in time to hear Michael clearing his throat behind me at the table. I grin and so does Brian. "Aw, Mikey- we're dead! Let us have some fun!" Brian says before pulling a classic Kinney tongue-in-cheek look. Then he leans over and kisses me hard. Michael clears his throat again, this time more pointedly.

"Mikey, what's wrong, Sweetie? Are you getting sick? You've hardly slept lately." Deb says, having calmed down somewhat. 

"No, Ma. I'm fine. Just a little frog in my throat is all." 

Despite the intensity of the kiss, I laugh. "You know what Michael is thinking but can't say aloud?"

Brian kisses me again. "'Get a room'." He says.

Michael coughs in agreement and Deb looks at him worriedly.

I break into a big smile when our lips part. "Exactly." 

Just then there's a knock at the front door. "I'll get it." Michael says, tossing his napkin next to his plate.

"Michael, be careful!" Brian says quickly.

Michael looks out the peephole and gasps. "Ma, Uncle Vic, go into the basement and lock the door!" 

Brian jumps up and sticks his head out the door. "Fuck! It's Ben!" He hisses. "At least it's not Ethan. Where's the fucking guard? Wasn't he told about Ben?" Brian goes outside and then comes back quickly. "Mikey, go join your mom and Vic! Your fucking guard is asleep at the wheel!"

"Holy shit!" I mutter as another knock comes on the door. Michael runs to the basement door and calls his Uncle Vic to open it. Then he disappears behind the door and I hear the lock slide into place. Ben peers through the window to see through the semi-opaque curtains.

"Michael?" He calls. "Michael, it's me! It's Ben!"

"Fuck!" Brian says. "Justin, I don't think Michael has his cell with him- I'll be right back! He can't call the cops!" He bounds up the stairs three at a time, bringing Michael's cell phone down with him. Without regard for the fact that Deb and Vic have no clue about our ghostly selves, I see him focus in order to pound on the basement door. Of course they don't open. Brian pokes his head through the door. "Michael- I put your cell phone just the other side of this door! Ben's still outside! Call the cops."

I hear the lock slide and watch a timid hand emerge and grab the phone, and there's a whispered 'Thanks'.

The knocks get louder. "Michael!!"

"Brian, what should we do?"

"Go get the fucking useless piece of shit guard's attention."

Just then the door knob is turned and then jiggled. I follow Brian through the door into the cool night air. Brian ignores Ben standing there, runs down to the car and I watch him focus before shaking the cop by the shoulder. Even though the cop can't hear him, Brian is yelling at him, calling him a pathetic loser and telling him to do his job. The guy jerks awake and looks around, obviously having felt Brian even though he can't see him. 

It's then that he looks up to see Ben at the Novotny's door, pounding and yelling that he knows Michael's in there and why is he avoiding him. The cop gets out of the car and goes up to Ben; he speaks quietly to him and Ben shrugs him off. I've never seen Ben like this. He stomps down the steps and huffs off. "Justin, c'mon- let's go tell Mikey it's OK now." Brian jogs up the steps and hurries into the house. I follow after him. He's already at the basement door and disappearing through it. "Mikey, he's gone - the guard fucking woke up from his cat nap and sent him away."

The three of them, Vic, Michael and Deb, are visibly shaken. "The guard got rid of him, Ma. We can go back up."

"How do you know that, Michael?" Vic asks.

"Er... there's no knocking at the door anymore."

"That doesn't mean he isn't up there!"

Just then Michael's cell goes off and he answers it. "Yeah, thanks. Next time don't fall asleep." He flips the phone closed. "That was the guard- it's OK now."

Everyone exhales. "God, that was scary. Was that Ben or Ethan?"

"I think it was Ben." Michael answers as the group all move up the stairs. Brian nods at him.

Debbie emerges first into the kitchen. "Fuck! He must have known we were home. The table is all set and the food is half eaten!"

"Maybe he didn't look into the room."

Brian and I both shake our heads. "He looked, Michael." I say.

"But maybe he did, Michael! He knows we were hiding from him! And then the policeman told him to leave!" I notice that Deb is getting hysterical. Vic is trying to calm her down.

"Now, Deb- we're fine. We've got a guard and good locks on the doors. Calm down." Vic says, rubbing her back. "We're fine. Really."

"Ma, calm down! He's not even after you!"

Brian rolls his eyes. "Nice going, Mikey! Jeez!" I have to agree but I don't say anything. Deb's one and only son is in danger and he reminds her of it.

"Ma- I'll be fine!"

Brian huffs and leaves. He can't stand drama and this is more than he cares to deal with, I take it. I follow him and glance at the cop- wide awake this time. Brian walks down the street and I watch him a moment before following. I try to transport to him and I focus really hard on Brian and find myself right next to him.

"You're doing well, Sunshine. Transporting all by yourself already."

"Yeah- that was cool! It felt like flying!" I exclaim. "Bri?"

He looks at me and cocks an eyebrow.

"Do you think Michael will be okay?" 

He sighs and puts an arm around me. It's a few moments before he answers as we walk under the streetlights. "I hope so, Justin." He finally says. 

"Brian, look! It's that truck from earlier today! The one that almost killed Michael!" I point out a parked truck in the shadows. 

"C'mon!" Brian pulls me towards the truck. "No one's in there- but Ethan might be nearby." He glances around. 

"Should we go tell Michael so he can tell the cop?"

"Yeah. Let's go." Brian leads me back to the house and we tell Michael who promptly calls the cop who's sitting in the car out front.

"He says he'll keep a close eye out for him."

"Tell him the back of the house needs to be covered."

Michael calls again. "The cop said he's called in for back up."

"Good." Brian says. 

"Brian, let's get some sleep, OK?" I say. "Things will look better in the morning. They always do." I pull him towards the couch.

"You guys need any blankets?" Michael asks after Deb and his Uncle Vic go up to bed.

"I don't- Justin?"

I shake my head. "No, thanks, seeing as how I couldn't move one if I tried. Good night, Michael."

"Good night." With that, Michael turns and goes upstairs. 

Brian takes my hand and leads me to the couch. "C'mon, Sunshine." He says warmly; I think to myself how much his demeanor has changed - the rough edges are gone, he's gentler. He pulls me onto the couch and lies down next to me. Our hands roam all over each other. "Alone at last," he mutters. 

"Mmmmmm... Brian... You feel so good." I whisper.

"You too, Justin..." I feel his hand on my cock, squeezing it through the fabric, and I nearly lose it right there.

"Bri- should we? I mean, someone could walk in on us- like Debbie!"

"Justin, she can't even see us! Or hear us!"

"Michael can."

"Mikey knows better than to walk in on us." 

This whole time Brian's rubbing my cock and my resolve, what little there was, disappears. I kiss him, and like earlier today, the sensation is more than incredible- it's stupendous and I get those orgasmic vibrations again, like I'm having a roiling multiple orgasm.

When our lips part we're both out of breath. "My lord!" I gasp. 

"Mmmmm..." He says, kissing me again. "Nummers..." He adds. I chuckle at Brian's use of Gus' word for 'Yummy'. 

"Yeah." I agree. "Nummers is right." I barely get the words out before he's kissing me again and our cocks are grinding together.

"Get naked, now!" Brian commands, pulling off my shirt. He follows suit and kicks off his jeans as I do the same. The feeling of his naked body against mine is too much and I lose it, buckling under several orgasms as I bite back a scream. When I finally open my eyes, I see Brian's face centimeters before mine and he's watching me with a smile. "You know," he whispers leaning over me so his lips are close to my ear, "you're beautiful when you come. Even moreso now than ever before." Then he kisses my earlobe.

It's such a sweet thing to say- both Brian-like and unBrian-like-- and he's so gentle and loving, I actually feel myself blush, my cheeks getting warm. Which really, is silly if you think about it, given the things we've done in bed and on every other surface of the loft. 'Course, this is the first time on the Novotny's ratty old couch. "Thanks, Brian." I give him a little kiss on the nose when he pulls his lips back from my ear. "You're beautiful too. And you're sweet."

"Usually you call me evil."

"Well, I'm being serious now."

"You're usually pretty deadpan, Justin."

"I'm a good actor." I say, smiling at him.

The light over the stairs comes on and I scramble to get up from under Brian- no easy feat when he doesn't help. Vic wanders into the kitchen after looking out at the squad car. He sighs and gets a glass of milk with some Oreos and sits at the table. While I know he can't see me I practically rip my shirt hurrying to get dressed. Brian's chuckling at me as he dresses at his normal leisurely pace. I jog upstairs to use the bathroom to clean up followed by Brian. 

We end up back at the table with Vic. He looks tired, unhappy, and he half-heartedly eats an Oreo. He sighs again and shakes his head. "You two punks- how could this happen to you? Things were finally going well for you." He mutters to himself. 

Brian's features fall as he reaches out to take Vic's hand and it passes right through the man. "Fuck." He says quietly. I calmly put my hand on Brian's and give it a squeeze. "Vic's strong, Brian. He'll be okay."

"He shouldn't have to be strong, Justin. He's sick."

I look at him sympathetically. "I know. But he is strong. Of all the people in this house, he'll deal with this the best. He'll be there for Michael and Deb."

He sighs and looks back to Vic, who has rested his head in his hands and is rubbing his face tiredly.

"Vic- you down here?" Deb says from the bottom of the stairs. She enters the kitchen and pulls out the chair that Brian's on and nearly sits on- or rather through- him. Brian jumps up and takes a vacant chair. "Can't sleep again, huh?" She says to him.

"You neither?" She shakes her head sadly and puts her hand on Vic's where Brian had put his. Vic smiles at her wanly, bags under his eyes. "Cookie?" He asks, holding out the sack of Oreos. She takes one and munches it slowly.

"Will this ever feel better?" She asks quietly. Knowing how affected she was by Jason Kemp's murder, a boy she didn't even know, I realize how big a blow this must be to her.

Vic sighs and shrugs, saying nothing.


	24. Chapter 24

  
Author's notes: Um... a bit of a strange chap, but I hope you like ;)... lemme know! (It sure is loooong...)  


* * *

POV: BRIAN

We sit at that kitchen table with Deb and Vic until 4:30 in the morning. They don't say much, they just sit there sighing and occasionally looking at each other in sadness. Justin comes around the table to sit on my lap at about midnight. The Oreos are gone by 3:30 AM, the milk is gone by 3:45 AM. Justin and I don't say much either. By the time the two of them head upstairs, Justin's head is on my shoulder. He kisses my neck and caresses my cheek. 

"Well, that was fucking depressing." I say quietly.

"Hm mmm." Justin says simply, nuzzling me in the crook of my neck. "It's too bad we can't tell everyone that we're really right next to them. Invisible to them, soundless to them- but here. You think we should get Michael to tell them?"

"I think it's better if we just let them mourn. Plus, I think they'd think Mikey had lost his marbles."

"But everyone is so sad."

"Well, people get sad when loved ones die. I wonder when your funeral is." 

"I think Michael said something about this Saturday at their dinner earlier. You think Ethan and Ben will go and try anything?"

"Well, I'd say after tonight, Ben's clued in on the fact that Michael knows about his and Ethan's killing me. And their hired guy Brad who did the shooting. And he knows you were killed by Ethan. All of Liberty knows that you're dead by now, even if it has been touted as a burglary."

"Well, at least Horvath is taking it seriously and providing protection for Michael. I’m sure they’ll really beef up security, keeping guards at the entrances to the hall." Justin continues to nuzzle me as we sit at the table. I cup his chin and feel how soft his skin is. 

"Yeah. But we better make sure Mikey talks to Carl about that. And yeah, there definitely needs to be more than one guard, and only one way to get into the hall so no one can sneak in any other way. The more restricted manner of entry and the more guarded, the safer." I whisper. We continue to sit like this for awhile, caressing each other, thoughtful. "God, Sunshine. Your skin is so soft." I mutter inadvertently. I can feel him smile under my hand. I really have become a lezzie.

"Let's move over to the couch- you can't be very comfortable with me on your lap on this hard chair for over 4 hours." Sunshine says.

I stand up, keeping him in my arms. I go over and toss him on the couch. He laughs. I go to the window and check that the squad car is still there. It is and I vaguely see the guy inside sipping some coffee from a Thermos. Good. I walk over to the couch to join Sunshine, stretching my sore legs along the way. Strange how we can sit and feel sore or we can pass through things, depending on what we choose. Must be more weirdness from that legend thing. I sit beside Justin, pushing him to lie down with me on top of him. "Justin, you think you're ready?"

He knows exactly what I'm talking about and winks at me: I’m asking if is he ready for me to finally fuck him for the first time since he was killed yesterday. The touching and kissing till now have been so utterly intense, we both experienced multiple, unbelievable orgasms just from that. "Didn't you say something about our heads exploding?" He grins evilly.

"I'm willing to risk it." I growl, leaning down to kiss him and I lick his ear, giving him a nip on his earlobe and tugging gently. "You?"

Justin simply moans. "Gahh..."

I pull off his shirt, running my hands over his smooth, beautiful chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and I quickly take off my shirt to feel his skin against my own. "You feel so good." I murmur against his chest as I kiss my way down. "So good..." I repeat. Justin makes more incoherent noises in that way he does and is writhing beneath me as I suck and bite his nipples. "Mmm..." I taste the sweet skin on his belly and climb back up his torso; he's thrown an arm over his head in his bliss and I lean down and kiss his armpit, nuzzling the downy, slightly moist hair, and then I trail kisses all the way up his arm till I kiss and lick his palm. 

"Briahhhh..." he moans. "God..."

I tug at his jeans and pull them off. I take his cock in my fist and begin to masturbate him. Justin is going absolutely insane; I love watching his face when he's in ecstasy- on this plane even moreso. He totally gets wrapped up in the moment and his face contorts, mouth open, brow beaded in sweat; usually he keeps his eyes open to watch me and what I'm doing to him, sometimes his eyes are squeezed shut, sometimes they're just closed. Right now he's watching me and there's dark lust in his eyes and complete bliss in his expression that's so beautiful I can't take my own eyes off him. He's panting and heaving.

I make quick work of my jeans and begin to reach into my pocket when Justin grabs my wrist. "We don't need a condom, Bri." He says, gasping. 

"Habit, I guess..." I mutter lying down on top of him; I run my fingers through his hair and notice how animated he is, arching and leaning into my every touch. It's probably a combination of feeling over-stimulated because our senses are somehow heightened now and the knowledge that he's finally getting his wish: for me to fuck him raw. His nearly purple cock is pointing right up towards his chin and the precum is leaking all over his belly. I lean down and lap it up.

"Agh- Brian, I'm going to come too soon- this is too intense!"

"Well," I chuckle, "It seems like in our new existence, that's OK; you'll just keep coming."

"I want you inside me, Brian. Now, please! Now, Brian, please Brian, now...!" Justin starts babbling and begging. I reach down to my jeans on the floor for the lube. "No lube, no fingers Brian- just you inside me now."

"You sure?"

"Briannn! Fuck me!" He yells. I momentarily worry about Mikey listening to us but I push that out of my mind.

I position myself at his hole and push and it's like nothing I've ever experienced before; his tight channel gripping me, seeming to pull me into him and he moans and curses and then he starts uttering "yesyesyesyesyes...!" I feel him come several times, making quite a mess between us of cum and sweat. His ass massages my cock, his muscles continuing to spasm and quickly I collapse onto him as I shoot; I feel my cum against the naked, warm walls of his ass, and I feel it leaking from his hole and onto my balls. It feels like I'm coming forever and then the tremors finally dissipate into the aftershocky lull. His legs are locked around me, keeping me inside him. I look down at him, sweat making his hair stick to his face, his upper lip beaded with droplets. He's looking at me with heavy-lidded eyes. I notice tears have left a trail from the corner of his eyes into his hair.

"Jus..." Is all I can manage at the moment. I kiss the tears from his eyes to his hairline and then trail kisses all the way to his mouth. He's breathing heavily can barely return the kiss through his panting; I feel the hot breath from his nose on the side of my face. I look at him, limp and sleepy and sweating.

"That was unfucking believable..." Justin gasps when our lips part. 

"What a mess..." I mutter looking down at our bodies. 

He chuckles, bending his chin towards his chest to look down. "Well worth it." He says. "We still have our heads, I see. They didn't blow up."

"I think I lost mine for a few moments."

"I can feel your cum dripping out of my hole, Brian. That was the most intense orgasm I've ever had. This is incredible."

"Mmmhmm..." I hum my answer. "It's getting to be time for everyone to get up, Sunshine. Including Mikey. We might want to get dressed."

"I like you inside me. I want to fall asleep like this."

I snicker. "Do you want Mikey to see you under me, pinning me inside you with your legs wrapped around my naked ass?"

Justin doesn't laugh. "Just stay a little while longer. I love you. I want to keep feeling you inside me."

"Shut it with the ‘love’ shit- besides, my dick is getting soft. I won't be inside you much longer." I make a move to get up but he grips me even tighter.

"No! Stay!" There's something in his tone that makes me simply sigh and relent. I look at him and then at the clock on the mantle. 6:15. And just about zero sleep. Not that we really need all that much, to be honest. I sigh again and lay my head down so that his fits in the crook of my neck. Justin rubs his cheek against my hair and trails his hands up and down my back. 

"Am I crushing you?" I whisper.

"No. It feels good to have your weight on me." As if to make his point he completely wraps his arms around my back and squeezes me. I smile against his soft damp hair and kiss him, the scent of cum, sweat and Justin on his skin. "Stay. Just a few more minutes." He pleads. I continue smiling, again wondering at what a lesbian I've become acquiescing to his many sappy requests- and without snark. I guess getting killed and seeing your partner lying in a pool of his own blood can have an affect on you, you know? Seeing your makeshift family mourn for you and your partner can, too. 

We lay like that for awhile and I'm beginning to doze when I hear people upstairs stirring. "OK, Sunshine. Wet and sticky and naked is not how I want to be seen by my endangered best friend first thing in the morning- on his mother's crap-assed couch no less. Rise and shine!" 

He sighs and lets me up. I'm a little stiff from the position I was in but I ignore it. "Do we ever need showers?" He asks.

"Why, do I stink?"

He laughs. "No, you don't stink- you smell like you. I just didn't know if we had to or not."

"Well, seeing as how water pretty much passes right through us, I hope not. I suppose if we want to, we could make ourselves more solid and see what happens."

He laughs again. "Only our own cum and sweat sticks to us. Lovely."

"Well, somehow it goes away, rather quickly though- the sweat and cum I mean. It just kind of evaporates. Just like our clothes stay clean. Or maybe, we just don't get dirty." I shrug. “Beats me. So long as it happens some way, I don’t care. See, Sunshine? Look down. It’s already gone.”

“Can we still taste ourselves?”

“Yeah- I checked with my own cum. If we don’t let it evaporate, we can. Before you got with me, the cum didn’t disappear as quickly, I’ve noticed. Now it vanishes faster for some reason.”

“Bummer.” Justin mopes.

“Yeah, well *this* morning it’s a good thing. Mikey should be down pretty soon.”

We pull on our clothes and Justin goes into the kitchen. "Hey, Brian- I'd like to try to eat- can you get out some leftovers?"

I snort. "You and food."

"What-? I haven't eaten since yesterday before it happened." 

"You don't have to eat, Justin."

"But I like to eat." He says matter-of-factly.

I know, I know. I think to myself. Which he mindreads and on my way to the fridge I see him stick his tongue out at me. I get out a Tupperware container with the chicken parmesan and I open it for Justin, handing him a piece. "Just remember not to eat in front of anyone unless it’s Mikey- it’d scare the bejesus out of Deb and Vic to see a piece of possessed chicken parmesan floating around." Justin goes to eat over the table, getting a little frustrated as he drops the piece every so often as he’s still trying to master his telekinesis abilities.

"It's good, Brian- you should have some." He comments after a moment.

I scrunch up my face. "Not in the mood for chicken parmesan first thing in the morning."

"How is it possible for me to eat? I'm not even a body!"

"Y’are to me.” I drawl.

“Seriously, Brian.”

“I dunno, Sunshine. The piercing the veil gave us quite a few powers, abilities and qualities that others don't have, apparently. I frankly have a bunch of unanswered questions that keep popping into my head, but what with this shit going down with Ethan, Ben and that Brad guy, I haven't been out much to find other ghosts to ask." I hear someone coming down the stairs. "Justin! Throw that away! Before they see you- or rather- just see *it*!" I grab the bone from him and toss it in the garbage under the sink, worried that Justin won't be able to open the cabinet yet. Just then Deb rounds the bottom of the stairs, yawning- the cabinet closes. She comes into the kitchen and eyes the cabinet door under the sink a moment, shrugs and starts to make coffee. "Now *that* is what I wouldn't mind. A big cup of coffee. Even the swill Debbie makes." I say longingly.

"You and coffee. And black with like 7 sugars." He shudders. "Ugh." 

I roll my eyes. "C'mon- seems Mikey’s not up- let's go wake him up to keep his poor mother company. She had a rough night." Sunshine follows me up the stairs and we ‘barge’ into Mikey's room. To find him jacking off… I laugh; and then see that –holy shit!- he’s jacking off to that soccer picture of me teaching him to dribble! "Aw, Mikey… Geez..." I mutter.

Justin can't seem to take his eyes from Michael, as if he doesn't know or believe what he’s witnessing. It’s like it’s not registering- or maybe it is and he’s in shock. Michael huffs, indignant. "Don't you ever fucking *knock*? God, Brian! What if I was..." He can't come up with anything though.

"...Whacking off?" I finish for him helpfully. To my picture no less, I add to myself. Justin looks at me abruptly, having read my thoughts- and suddenly he seems to snap out of it and realize what he’s just seen.

"Fuck off!" Michael hisses, then he realizes what picture he's holding; he quickly shoves it under the covers, chagrinned. 

Although it’s a shock, I decide to let him off the hook and not confront or tease him about it. I mean, after all, he just lost his husband in theory having found out the creep hired some freak to kill his best friend; he's under the watchful eye of guards, in fear for his and his family’s life; he came into the loft and found Justin's body. He doesn’t really need shame or embarrassment to haunt him now, too. So, magnanimous ghost that I am, I cut him some slack and try to ignore what Justin and I just walked in on. "Up and at'em, Mikey." I peer out the window to see the second squad car by the backyard fence. "Looks like they're still on duty. Good. Be sure you thank Carl for all his help. Even if it is only Pittsburgh's finest watching over the house." I sigh: I don’t think the ‘ignore’ tactic is going to work, though.

Brian, that is so disgusting that he was jacking off to your picture! Justin telepathies to me.

I roll my eyes. Given your insistence that he’s in love with me, I doubt it's the first time, Justin. Plus he’s had a weird few days and weeks, I answer silently. Yes, it’s a bit disconcerting, I’ll give you that. But just think of what he’s been through, and he’s missed us.

He’s missed *you*, Brian- he was fucking *jacking off* to your picture! 

I know, Sunshine. And he’s beet red over it.

Michael notices Sunshine and me exchanging looks. "You're doing that mindreading thing, aren't you? Stop it! It's not fair!"

I smile at him. "It's nothing, Michael. Now, get your ass out of bed and get downstairs. Debbie and Vic were up most of the night fretting and your mother needs help with breakfast."

"'Fretting'?" He repeats getting out of bed after pulling his briefs up. "About what...?"

"Me and Sunshine here; you forget that they don't know we're still around, albeit in a different state."

I can tell Justin's still flipping out about catching Mikey whacking off to my picture. I silently tell him to stop freaking out about it- that we can talk about it later if he wants.

He just glares at me and shudders. 

Michael gets dressed and follows us downstairs. I can tell he's still thinking about what just happened too; and he's embarrassed and a bit nonplussed about how to act. I make my arm solid and throw it around him in the living room and whisper in his ear, "Mikey, don't worry about it. You've been through hell and back lately. It's understandable if you miss me."

He relaxes a little and gets a small grin on his face. "Thanks, Brian." 

I sense Justin shuddering again and I know full well he's listening to what I'm saying- with such heightened senses, there's nothing we don't hear, really. Especially when it's the other of us saying or thinking it. It can be nice. It can be alarming. It can also be annoying. But Mikey doesn't need to know Justin heard me.

"Ma!" Michael says when he gets into the kitchen. "You look terrible! Did you get any sleep?" Deb is seated at the table, just a cup of coffee in her hands. She sits hunched over it as if trying to keep warm.

"Rough night, sweetie. And you’ll have to just have cereal this morning. I don’t have the energy to cook breakfast right now."

"You should call in sick at the diner today. You're working too hard and worrying too much. Remember what happened the last time you got so exhausted? You collapsed in the diner!"

Atta boy, Mikey! I think to myself. She does need a day off. Or three.

"Can't afford to do that, sweetie."

"You can afford one day, Ma. You're a wreck."

Debbie gets up and tops off her cup. "It's just a half day shif--" She's cut off by a knock at the door. Fucking guard better not have dozed off again. She gets up and looks out the peephole. "

“MA- no!” 

“It's OK, Michael, it's Carl." She opens the door.

"You look exhausted, hun." He says, giving her a peck on the cheek.

"I am." She answers, the fatigue evident in her voice. It's then that I wish she could see and hear me- she'd listen to me if I demanded she stay home. She has before anyway.

Michael hangs up the phone in the kitchen. "I just called the diner- they're fine without you today." Now *that* was brave of him.

Justin comes up to me and hugs me from behind, apparently the hissy fit over Michael’s morning whacking is over for now. "That sure took balls on Michael's part, didn't it?"

I grin and nod.

Debbie marches up to Michael and wags her finger in his face with one hand and slaps the back of his head with the other. "Michael Charles Novotny, how dare you!?" 

"I'm sorry Ma, but you look like you really need a break, what with the shock of Brian and Justin being both gone so suddenly, working double shifts, Justin's funeral this Saturday, being under guard all the time..."

"It's true, Deb. You could use a day off." Carl agrees.

Her shoulders slump as Vic comes down the stairs in his bathrobe. "You're staying home today? Good!" He says from behind her. "Hey, Carl! Any news?"

"Well, we've nabbed that Broderick character. So far he hasn't rolled on the other two men that Justin mentioned;" he looks at his pad. "Gold and Bruckner. But he confessed to killing Brian. If the other two were indeed involved, it will be difficult to tie them in without his help."

Justin comes from behind me to my side. "Broderick is being loyal to those SOB's?" He whispers to me.

"There's still time. Don't worry. And there's forensic evidence they don't have yet- from you and the loft. Don't give up hope yet, Sunshine." I whisper back, putting my arm around him protectively and kissing the top of his head.

"Detective, Justin was really sure those other two were involved- he wouldn't make something like that up." Mikey pipes in. "Really."

"Well, we have to have evidence, Michael. In the meantime, we'll keep the guards around and keep looking for clues."

Justin pulls me towards the door and we go through it, leaving the others behind. "Sorry, Brian. I just had to get out of there..." He looks shaken. 

"That's OK; where to?" I ask softly. Truth is, I was getting claustrophobic myself. They have to arrest those fuckers. Ethan going free isn't an option. Same with Ben.

"I want to go back to the loft."

I freeze. "Justin, you realize it's a crime scene. There's still going to be a fucking chalk outline of your body on the floor."

"I know, Bri. I need to go back. I want to face my demons... The- er, my body was behind the kitchen island- easily avoided.”

I shiver involuntarily. Here I thought it would be hard for Justin to return to the loft. Now I find that it's actually me. It's just the day after he was killed- I don’t know if I can face that.

Justin looks at me with concern. "Will you be OK with this, Brian? If not, we could simply go to the diner."

"Let's um... let's go the diner first, 'K?"

"Sure, of course." He rubs my back and pecks me on the cheek. We walk the 4 blocks to the diner and go in. Justin immediately wants lemon bars but I remind him that floating lemon bars would probably not help business. He looks disappointed.

"I think there are still some at the loft. We can also come back after the diner is closed."

"Aren't the ones at the loft evidence or something?"

"I'm sure you could sneak one. Or again, we could come back after the diner is closed and you could eat to your heart's content." 

Justin seems to brighten a little at the thought. "OK." People are openly talking about our deaths now that it's all out. And what an earful it is. I notice Ted and Emmett in the back and motion to Justin. We go sit by them since Emm always has the latest dish. And yes, they're talking about us.

"I just cannot believe they're both gone. Gone! And so violently! Within a month of each other! It's so sad, Teddy. It's tragic." Emmett is saying, picking at his pancakes. "And you know what I hear through the grapevine?" His voice lowers. "I hear the deaths are related somehow. There's some kind of police investigation that's ongoing."

"Oh, that's just rumor and hearsay!" Ted interrupts. "We're just living in a violent, crime-ridden world."

"Justin *was* found in Brian's loft, Teddy."

"Well, where else would he be? He'd hardly left that place since Brian was killed." 

"Poor baby- having to witness his lover get shot like that. And shot while saving Justin himself from the killer. I also heard something about it being some Brad Broderick guy confessing to the shooting of poor Brian."

Poor Brian. I scoff at that.

"Jeez, Emm, where do you hear these things?"

"I have my sources." Emmett winks. "A couple of them work with Pittsburgh's finest." He grins at Theodore who, judging from the slight circular motion of his head from the back, rolls his eyes. Emmett swats at him, "Oh don't be such a boring old cynic. Cops are gay too, you know."

"I wouldn't risk it. They're also notorious gay haters."

"Not the ones I know." Emm winks again and pours even more syrup on his breakfast. Where he puts all those calories, I have no clue. 

Justin is looking at me, his back to them. He cocks an eyebrow. "So they know about Broderick and that our deaths are possibly related. That'll be big gossip any moment now that Emmett knows it. Maybe that'll scare Ethan and Ben into doing something stupid."

"Let's hope not too stupid. Mikey's still in danger." I reply, aching for a cup of coffee.

He pauses, thoughtful. "Maybe there's something we could do. Like write them letters saying 'we know what you did.'" He suggests. 

"That would probably trigger the doing something stupid you just mentioned."

He thinks about it and then nods. "Still, as a last resort..."

"I'm not losing Mikey, Justin. Two lives have been taken by these fuckers. That's enough. One of these lives was more special to me than my fucking own…" My voice is sterner than I intend and I reach across the booth and take his hand. "Sorry. I just really hate those fuckers. And I'm scared for Michael."

He nods, looks down at our clasped hands and smiles. "I know, Brian. They took the two most important people in my life- one more important to me than my own. If they got your 'Mikey', you would have lost the 3 most important people in yours."

"Actually, not exactly lost. And despite the physical limitations not being able to manipulate things like I used to and not being seen or heard by most people, being a ghost isn't as bad as I would have thought- mainly because I’m with Sunshine again and can touch him. Fuck, I’ve become a breeder. 

“And I've gotten good at the telekinesis so manipulating things isn't as much of a problem as it used to be, so long as no one from the living world sees me do it."

"No, it isn't that bad. And the sex is incredible. And yeah, I can touch you again. That whooshy breezy feeling was nice, but your hard body is definitely better." Justin winks at me.

"You think that was bad? I couldn't touch ANYone for nearly 3 weeks! Except Jason, and I wasn't into him. Although my body sure responded to being touched when he put his hand on my shoulder."

As if to show me he understands, Justin reaches across the table and takes my other hand, squeezing them both. Emmett and Ted get up, still chatting about the rumors about our deaths. While I'm curious to hear more, I know they probably get less and less true the more Emmett talks about the whole thing. 

"Ready to go?"

No. "Sure."

"You thought 'no', Brian. Does going to the loft make you uncomfortable?"

"Justin, you were brutally murdered in my home. Yes, it makes me uncomfortable to say the least." I blurt out.

"You aren't going to give up the loft, are you? I mean, you can talk to Michael into some way of keeping it- giving it to him."

"I haven't thought that far ahead." I say honestly. "Besides, I'm dead. It's not like I need it or can keep paying for it. And how could Michael get it- I didn’t will it to him. And why would I want to keep a landmark to your death for fuck's sake?"

"I think you'd do well to face going back there. If we did it together..."

"Oh, you *do*, do you? You were just killed- murdered- stabbed to death- yesterday, Justin. Give it- give *me*- some time for Chrissakes."

"I was there, I know what happened." He says quietly. 

I huff a breath. "Fine. We'll go. But I think it's morbid. And by the way, I've noticed over the past weeks that you have avoided going anywhere near where I was killed. Maybe it's the same for me."

"If you want, I could go alone."

"And do what? Lie in bed sniffing my pillow like the good old days? I'm right here in case you haven't noticed. You can smell the real thing. You really want to relive the terror of the moment Ethan came at you with the knife? The moment you knew it was over?"

"Okay, Brian- I get it... I just want to see it. Face it. Overcome it." 

I sigh.

Justin comes over to my side of the booth and scoots in next to me. "And I love being able to smell the real Brian Kinney again, believe me." He leans over and kisses my neck and jaw, sniffing me each time he kisses my face. My jaw is clenched though- I can't help it. I really don't feel like going over to the loft the day after it all happened. 

"Aw, Brian, unclench. Again, you don't have to go with me."

"I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to go alone- you were pretty upset yesterday after it happened. You might unhinge."

"I'm more worried about you at the moment." Justin smiles at me.

*Not* the right thing to say right now. I push him from the booth before me and stomp out of the diner, tempted to use the door and freak everyone in the living world out. But I simply storm out through the glass, passing through like a hot knife through butter. He runs after me, having to jog a little to keep up with my stride.

"Brian, don't be pissed at me! I just want to see it! Get closure!"

And in truth, this is less about being pissed at him and more about my own trepidation going back to the loft. Still, I stomp forward in that direction. I decide to take the route we took home the night I was shot. A little childish payback never hurts.

"Brian, you don't have to go! Really! Hey, this is the way we took home from Babylon that ni--"

I stop and swing around to face him. "Yes, yes it is. The way 'home' that you've avoided taking ever since the night I was shot to death!"

Justin looks stricken and I'm suddenly sorry I said anything. 

"Listen, Justin." I start, more softly now. "Maybe we should both face our demons. You where I was shot, me where you were stabbed."

He looks away. "I don't know if I can. Brian, that night you fucking saved my life by losing your own--"

"Justin, we both know it was me they were after..."

"We didn't know that then. And that guy was going rape me. You pushed me far away from what was happening, told me to run, and then you fucking leapt right at him to stop him from going after me. Brian, when I heard that shot and saw you fly back in mid air from the blast I screamed. Brian, your blood went everywhere and you tried to stay with me- I know you tried holding my hand for as long as you could. Your blood was even in my mouth since I was screaming at the time you were shot. Brian, that was the worst night of my life- when the paramedic pried your hand from mine I knew. I knew. I threw up and then hurried into ambulance with you; but you were gone. Even though I still felt you, I knew it."

"Justin you're forgetting that I was there for most of that- I ran after the bastard but came back to find you making these unearthly sounds over my body. I saw what you went through, Justin. I saw the paramedic pry my fingers from yours. I saw you throw up. I saw you get into the ambulance. I saw you covered in my blood. I tried to hold you a million times that night. That's probably why you felt me. I was there. I was there the whole time." I pull him to me and hug him when I see his eyes well up. "C'mere." I say simply. I run my fingers through his hair. "OK, we'll go another way." I lead him around and we go the way Justin has been going since it happened. "But you have to remember, finding you was no picnic for me either."

"I know. I was there. God, we must have held each other for the entire afternoon crying."

"The night I was shot and I found you over my body, at first I was scared you'd been hurt- shot. When I realized you hadn't and it was all my own blood, I was so relieved. Sad, but relieved. Who knew you'd only be alive for another 3 weeks..."

"Let's go." He says quickly, pulling me back the way we had been going - back towards where I'd been shot.

"Justin, are you sure?"

"No," he says shakily. "But I've got to do this. If you're steeling yourself for the loft, I have to be fair and do this for you."

"No, you don't. The loft after all is where I live- so to speak, of course; at the moment anyway. This is just a way among many to get there."

Justin continues to pull me towards where it happened. "Just come on." It's like he's hurrying so he doesn't back down.

I yank him to a stop, knowing and feeling how much pain he's in. "Justin. Stop."

"Come ON!" He insists. "Just come on." He pulls me along until we're there. I search the ground for a bloodstain, but I guess we've had so much rain, it's gone. Justin just stops and stares, looking like he's reliving that night. And by reading his mind, I see that he is. Vividly. I reach for him but something tells me to leave him alone, to let him do this himself. I delve into his mind and feel the absolute horror and fear he's feeling and at once wish I'd never brought this up in the first place. He begins to sway and nearly drops to his knees.

"Justin!" I call out, catching him. "Careful." But he hardly hears me, he's so lost in reliving that night. "Justin, let's get out of here. This is affecting you too deeply. Come on." I try to get him to stand but his knees keep buckling; it's like he's in some trance or something. Finally, I resort to picking him up. He almost tries to resist and then it's like he realizes it's me and that he's not actually reliving what happened. He moves to get down and wraps his arms around me so tight I actually have to exhale.

"Brian. Oh, my God, Brian; it was like it was happening all over again." He sobs into my shoulder. I hold him and kiss his soft blond hair.

"This was a terrible idea. Let's go. Let's get out of here."

He just squeezes me tighter. "Sorry. I'm not some stupid little faggot. I've been so fucking weepy lately... I didn't expect to relive it so literally. Sorry."

"Sorry's bullshit. And you've had a lot to make you 'weepy' lately. You aren't a stupid little faggot." I whisper.

"Still, I'm sorry I've been so needy."

"Shut up, OK? I've been needy too. We've leaned on each other." It's odd for me to admit such a thing, but I'm dead for fuck's sake. I try to unwrap him from my torso so that we can move on but he keeps his hold on me. "Justin, let's get out of here. This isn't a good place for you to be." I begin to worry how I'll react to being in the loft. But that was slightly different. Like Justin said, we could keep his body out of sight; we had to wait for someone to come and find the body; and it had already happened by the time I got back to the loft; and finally, I had Justin's spirit there with me. Justin had to witness it all; watch me die a gory death; and then be alone for weeks until he saw me in that mirror at the diner and this whole wild and wooley 'piercing the veil' thing was set into motion. "Let's go, Sunshine." I finally feel his grip loosen and I pull him away from the area. "Justin, where to?"

He swipes his eyes and sputters an ironic laugh. "May as well try the loft. Maybe I'll be 1 for 2 at least and not lose it there."

I wrap my arm around his shoulder and pull him in the direction of the loft, steeling myself the whole way. We get there and slowly go up the stairs; I'm remembering practically flying up them just yesterday and finding the loft door open, Justin's spirit curled on the sofa crying. And Justin's body. For some reason, I choose to open the door instead of simply pass through it and then I relive that moment as vividly as Justin seemed to relive what happened to me and I stagger a bit, Justin steadying me. So much happened that day and seeing the chalk outline of his body is too much, as is the apparent bloodstain they couldn't remove from the grain in the hardwood floors. Justin pulls me to the sofa.

"This is where we touched again for the first time since you died." He says hurriedly, trying to put a good memory in my head. 

"Yeah, where we held each other for hours on end, crying our fucking eyes out."

"But we could touch, Brian. It was electrifying. And it's where we kissed that first time."

"And it's where we heard poor Mikey scream when he discovered your body."

Justin rolls his eyes. "I never win this game with you, do I?"

"Not when it comes to you being fatally stabbed; I can always one-up you."

"Well, that's fine. But I maintain that it wasn't all bad. I could see you, feel you, love you whole again."

"That's because we're both dead."

He sighs. He goes over and stands by the chalk outline. Ever the rational one, I stand next to him for a short time before going to the mirror and smashing it. Justin startles and whips around. "Brian..." he comes over to me and examines my hand. It's unharmed, of course- what with me being dead and all. "Brian!"

"I'm fine." Not really. I feel sick in the pit of my stomach. "Looks like it *was* a burglary. One steak knife is missing."

Justin winces, and goes over by the table that has my framed photos on it. He gathers a few of them up, his favorites. "Let's just get out here, Brian." I stand next to the door, avoiding looking down at the chalk outline on the floor. He gathers a few more pictures and follows me. 

"What are you doing?" I ask pointing to the pictures. 

"Taking some photos- you, Gus, me, Michael, everyone. Mementos."

"Christ, mementos of this place?"

"Brian, we did a lot of living here- a lot. It's not all bad." Justin whispers.

"Well, doesn't Michael have enough photos to keep you happy?"

"He wouldn't let me have any of his. And I want some of yours. Some of ours. And Gus." He gently pulls me from the loft, not knowing when I might flip out again- well, *I* don't know when that might be. 

I feel a sudden blinding pain behind my eyes and I squeeze them closed, pulling my fists up to put gentle pressure my eyelids. I suddenly see Ethan arriving at the loft, planting bugs around- I feel the fear in Justin as he pretends to get up from a nap and finds Ethan right there- I see Ethan looking at the yearbook that Carl left behind, with his and Brad Broderick's pages flagged. I see Ethan pick up the knife and round the kitchen island towards Justin, who is backing up and trying to explain why he has the book. And why Ian's and Brad's pictures were marked with flags that didn't have Justin's handwriting.

I don't know when or how it happened, but I find myself on my knees outside the loft and Justin in a panic right next to me trying to hold me up. I flash to Ethan pausing briefly to eye Justin suspiciously, accusing him of knowing, demanding he tell him how he knows who was responsible for killing me. I gasp when I see Ethan quickly close the distance and stab Justin repeatedly- and all I can focus on is the panic and fear and desperation in Sunshine's face; he calls out my name. I can't turn away, as much as I want to, I can‘t; I see Ethan run out of the door as Justin lays dying on the floor. Sunshine still breathes my name until he can't anymore.

I vaguely hear Justin calling out my name here next to me as the rest of the vision plays out- I find I'm now lying on the cold cement outside the loft door, trying desperately to blot out the horror flashing in my mind's eye. I see his body on the floor, still bleeding; I watch his spirit rise from the corpse and walk away from the funnel of light that waits for him. His soul doesn't look back at his body or at the light; he goes over to the sofa and curls up on himself, sobbing. As the light dissipates back into the atmosphere, I see myself at the door; suddenly everything goes black.

I wake up with Justin holding me, rocking me slightly, trying to hush me while at the same time I’m crying quietly. "Justin..." I whisper hoarsely. "I saw it. I saw it happen... what happened to you…"

"I know." He answers softly. "I know..."

I look around and see we're still in the loft hallway and he's propped himself against a wall and is holding me. "Justin... I'm so sorry. You called for me. You looked so afraid. You needed me…"

"Shhh. Quiet. There's nothing to be sorry about- we know that, remember?"

"Kemp never said anything about visions... He never warned me about that."

"Brian, you know you have a lot of powers that the rest of the spirits on this plane don't- and Kemp was very candid that not much is known about ‘our’ version of piercing the veil. Maybe that's one thing they didn’t know; and he said you were exceptional... But it's all over- you just saw images. It's all over and I'm here- we're here. I‘m here with you. With you."

I glance down and see the pictures of Justin, me, Gus, the munchers, and the rest of the family strewn in a wide angle around us, obviously scattered when Justin tried to support me as I passed out. I reach down and pick up one of me and Gus, remembering when Justin shot it when I wasn't looking. I'm shirtless, getting ready to put him down for a nap. He's maybe 6 months old. I'm leaning down and kissing him, standing right there in the loft outside my bedroom- a few yards away from the chalk imprint that now mars my floor. I swallow.

"It was horrible, Justin. Seeing that. Seeing what that fuck did to you; how scared you were- how desperate to get away, to get help."

"Brian- I could see what you were seeing- I know. I'm sorry. But those were just pictures in your mind- it's over. It's over and I'm with you."

"Yeah. Dead."

Justin shifts and moves to get up, taking my hand to help me. I'm shaky and so is Sunshine. He rubs my arm affectionately and leans down to pick up the pictures; his ability is getting better at manipulating the living world, but I still help him gather them up, keeping the one of me and Gus at the top of my pile. Justin sees this; "Hey, Brian? When's the last time you saw Gus?" He asks softly.


	25. Chapter 25

  
Author's notes: Next chap- a little good news ;)  


* * *

POV BRIAN

After my nightmarish vision of Justin's death, I look at some of the photos he took from the loft that have scattered in the hallway by the elevator at the loft. I focus on one of Gus and I. Justin shifts and moves to get up, taking my hand to help me. I'm shaky and so is Sunshine. He rubs my arm affectionately and leans down to pick up the pictures; his ability is getting better at manipulating objects in the living world, but still, I help him gather them up, keeping the one of me and Gus at the top of my pile. 

Justin sees this; "Hey, Brian? When's the last time you saw Gus?" He asks softly.

I look down glumly and finger the picture, trying to push the vision of Justin's death from my mind. "The funeral - about 2 and a 1/2 weeks ago. I can't bear to go over there and not be able to touch him, smell his baby smell, hold him, feel his soft skin..." And I miss him. Desperately.

"That's awhile for you, Brian. You miss him. Let's go see him." Justin finds a bag and puts the framed pictures in it. For a crime scene, we sure fucked it up. But we're ghosts. What can they do to us? And a bunch of photos and a shattered mirror wouldn't give them anything to go by. Justin can't slide the heavy door shut behind us so I do it. Again, I don’t exactly know why the fuck I opened the door. It’s not like we need to use the fucking thing. "You may want to hold this too." He hands me the bag of photos.

We go downstairs and 'transport' back to Mikey's without incident. We can't get through the door with the bag- and if I physically opened the door, that would freak anyone in there out, as would a floating bag of photos. So we leave the bag on the chair out front, assuming Michael will take it in. 

We do that weird 'transport' thing to the munchers'. I make it there before Justin and I sit on the front porch step waiting; I hold my head in my hands, the vision of Justin’s murder still vivid in my mind. Then the front door opens and Linds comes out with my Sonny Boy. It looks like she's been crying. She looks at the swingset we failed to build and had to hand over to Mel and I see her well up.

"Swings Mommy!" Gus says, reaching towards the swings. "Don' cry, Mommy... Dada here- right here." That gets my attention to the point that it takes me a moment to realize Justin has been here for a minute or so and has been watching. Can Gus *see* me? Sunshine looks surprised as well. 

"No honey, Dada's gone. He's in heaven with Justin with wings and a halo - and he can fly." Despite my for-shit mood, I smirk at the mental image *that* conjures up.

She puts Gus on the grass and he starts bee-lining it to me on the step. "Dada!" He insists, wobbling up to me. 

"Sonny Boy?" I say in disbelief.

"Dada!" Then even more unbelievably, he rests his tiny hand on my knee and I can feel it! Justin gasps and comes over. To Lindsay, it just looks like Gus stopped walking at the steps and is standing there. To me, it's one of the most beautiful and incredible feelings in the world. One that I've missed so terribly it's hard not to pick him up and hug him to me. "Dada! Up, Dada!"

"No up, Gus. Gus your Mommy can't see me- only you can." This is definitely something I have to ask someone about. How long will he be able to see me? WHY can he see me? What is going on? Why can he feel me? I put my hand over his and he smiles at me. Then I stoop down and hug him, savoring the smell of his freshly bathed skin. He wraps his tiny pudgy arms (from Linds' side of the family- must be) around my neck and laughs.

"Dada!" He squeals.

"Gus, come on over and I'll push you on the swings." Lindsay calls over. "What are you doing over there? You said you wanted to play on the swings, Lambskin, didn't you?"

"Mommy, it's Dada and Jusin!"

I look over at Justin and he shrugs like he has no idea what to think either- Gus sees 'Jusin' as well. He reaches over and tousles Gus' hair.

"Gus, sweetie, Dada and Justin are in heaven. They aren't here, honey."

Gus turns around in my loose embrace but he doesn't move away. "But dey're right here, Mommy." He says, confused.

"Go to Mommy, Sonny Boy." I tell him. I cup his soft little pudgy cheek, turn his face slightly towards me and give him a kiss. "Go on Gus. I'll be here to visit often."

Gus turns back around to face me and he looks at me quizzically like I just said the stupidest most obvious thing in the world. "Soon, Dada!" He smiles. "You an' Jusin visit real soon!" Then he turns and walks hesitantly to his mother. 

She sniffles and picks him up. "God, you look so much like your father."

Justin rests his head on my shoulder so that his chin is digging into me and his mouth is at my ear. I glance over at him but he's too close for me to fully face him. "He does, you know. Look like you, I mean." He says in my ear.

"Yeah well, this is another one for the books. First, I have a vision of what happened to you at the loft yesterday; second, my son can see me. Feel me. He has no mirror. He's just a toddler who can see me." I marvel as Gus waves to us from the swing. I have tears in my eyes as I wave back. Fuck.

"Well, he's your *son* who can see you. I suspect that has something to do with it."

"But for how long? Why? And he can see you, too, Sunshine. You aren't biologically his father."

He pulls his head back from my shoulder and shrugs. "I was like a father to him. Or maybe it's because you and I are soulmates. Maybe it has to do with piercing the veil. I dunno."

"'Soulmates.' Bah!" I scoff.

"Hey, I got that from Jason, I didn't make it up."

"Like Jason Kemp knew shit. Didn't know about visions or that my son could touch and see and interact with me. Or that he could with you, too."

Justin chuffs a staccato little laugh. "Believe what you want old man, but from all the weird weird goings-on in the last month or so, the fact that we're soulmates is the only explanation that makes any sense. And while you don't admit it, remember: I can read your mind like you read mine. And just like when you were alive: I'm onto you." 

I don't say anything but I train my eyes onto Gus, hating this mind reading thing. Really hating it.


	26. Chapter 26

  
Author's notes: THanks for your patience! Kind of a fluffy chapter, I suppose. Feedback loved.  


* * *

POV: JUSTIN  
  
Seeing Brian with Gus, how happy it makes him that Gus can actually see him and hear him and even touch him really does my heart good. After my little (well, OK, not so little) meltdown at the scene where Brian was killed and then his vision at the loft of me being killed threw us both for a loop. For me, it was like reliving that night all over again. For Brian, it was like living through a nightmare he never had before, seeing the murder he never witnessed until after the fact. Gus helps us both settle down. Somewhat.  
  
So, yes- that Gus can see, hear, talk to and feel his blood father is amazing; what's puzzling is that he can see, hear, talk to and feel *me* too. I'm not related by blood. I dunno; I was just telling Brian that maybe it's because I'm his soulmate—which of course, he denied and denies. Denying that we're soulmates is silly, really, after all we've been through. I just hope this incredible phenomenon with Gus lasts and that they can interact on all levels forever. For all our sakes- but especially Gus', actually. So he can grow up and see what a wonderful, loving man his father was and is. 

I watch Brian waving to his son on the swingset that he's joked about having tried to build with Lindsay but couldn't; they ended up having Mel erect it. I don't doubt it. As much as Brian loves that kid, building a swingset is simply not his thing.

He looks so happy, so beautiful as he watches his son. The snark melts away, the haunted look he gets sometimes disappears; the aversion to being openly affectionate vanishes. He's the Brian I know is in there that many don't get to see; just those of us who are closest to him. His son gets it every time they see each other. 

"Should we head out at some point, Sunshine? You're creeping me out staring at me like that."

"How can you even see that I’m staring at you? You're watching your son!"

"I can always tell when someone is staring at me."

"Then you must get that feeling a lot."

He sighs and turns to look at me. "Not anymore, obviously."  


"Sure you do- it's just me and Michael doing the staring. Not all of Liberty Avenue."  
  
He rolls his eyes. "You and your ass got plenty of stares. And they still get plenty of attention."  
  
"Yeah, but when someone is staring at your ass, you can't exactly see them."  
  
"But you can sense them. Can't you? I've always been good at sensing things."  
  
"Yeah. You have been good at that, actually. Maybe that explains why you're so powerful on this plane."  
  
"No. I'm powerful here because I'm cursed. And you're powerful too- give yourself some time." We're both quiet a few moments. "Maybe we should go back to Michael's." I say finally. "Carl may have something for us about our merry murderers." He nods, gets up and brushes off his jeans; needlessly, I might add. We go back to Michael's and I notice that the photos are still on the chair. "What'll we do with those?"

He shrugs. "Someone'll get'em and bring'em inside."

"But someone might take them instead!"  
  
"Who's going to steal someone else's photographs?" Brian points out.  
  
"Well, if they're yours... shirtless and holding your child... you never know!"  
  
He scoffs. "They're fine where they are! Stop being ridiculous and let's go in." With that, he strides past me and through the door. I put the pictures under the seat cushion to hide them, hoping that no one sits down on them. Then I follow him in. Debbie's asleep on the couch and Vic is sipping tea in the kitchen. I follow Brian upstairs into his best friend's room. He barges in despite what we walked in on this morning. There's Michael sitting on the bed reading a comic book- thankfully, he's not masturbating to Brian’s photo.

"Jeez, that's the second time today that you guys scared me by barging in."  


"We don't barge in, Mikey. We glide through the door. It's not like we can really open the fucking doors," he lies.  
  
"Yeah, well, next time rattle your chains or something so I know you're there first. I swear- I may never whack off again."  
  
Brian and I laugh. "Unlikely. And if we can't open a door, we can't carry around chains with us, now can we?" Brian says. "Watcha readin'?"  
  
"A mint condition Captain Astro- the one where he and his sidekick prevent the evil genius Poltar from killing the President."  
  
"If it’s the current president, the Captain should side with Poltar," Brian says idly. I laugh as Brian grabs the comic from Michael's hands.

"Hey!" Michael complains.

"What, Mikey? I'll be careful with it," Brian says, leafing through it. I look around his arm to look at the pictures as he flips the pages.

I'm still chuckling a little about Brian’s comment about Bush. I just *really* hate that idiot- he talks like Howdy Doody and looks like Alfred E. Newman- and has the brain of a microbe. But I would have voted for the microbe if one had run against him. "The artwork is pretty good there, Michael," I finally say.

"Not as good as yours," Brian interjects before Michael can answer. I grin in response.

"Well it's a pretty old comic. Aesthetics were different back then."  


"Big word, there, Mikey! 'Aesthetics'! I’m impressed!"

"Shut up Brian, and for fuck's sake, be careful! You're going to get the oils from your fingers all over it!" Michael bitches, reaching for the booklet but Brian gracefully moves out of reach, his long arms no match for Michael’s much shorter ones. One thing I love about Brian is his easy grace and beautiful long, lean limbs and body. I envy him, in a way. But, he’s mine. *I* get to enjoy him, pleasure him, admire him- forever.

"Michael, what oils? We don't even leave fingerprints," Brian responds, snapping me back to the adolescent conversation Michael has engaged us in. Then Brian switches gears a little. "Oh, yeah, Mikey- We went by the loft today." I can feel Brian taking a deep breath as he wills away the reactions that rise into his heart about what happened there. His mask comes up in full. "Justin grabbed a bag of photos he wants to keep, but we can't walk through doors with the bag. It's on the front porch- could you get it for us?" Brian asks.

"It's under the seat cushion," I add quietly.

Brian just turns to look at me, now amused. "Good thing no one really sits down on that raggedy old chair. You'd have a bag of scratched pictures and broken glass."

I smirk at him. "I told you- I didn't want anyone to take them!"

"And I told *you* that nobody would take a pile of other people’s photos!"

"And I told YOU, they might if they had images as beautiful as yo—"

"Drop it," Brian says bluntly. "Mikey, could you get them for this sentimental sap here who just *had* to pierce the veil with me?"

Mikey has watched our mock battle like it’s a tennis match, and gives a puzzled look. "Under the porch chair cushion?"

"Yeah. That ratty thing. The pictures are probably already all eaten by termites." Brian grins in my direction.

"Um. Sure." He goes downstairs and fetches the photos. While he’s gone, we both smile and lean together for a brief kiss.

"I love you, Brian," I whisper. "You ass." 

He rolls his eyes. "*You’re* the ass in this little soap opera of ours..." He kisses me again good-naturedly. At least at the moment, between our wonderful visit with Gus and Michael's sometimes endearingly 14-year-old ways, our moods are at least temporarily lifted.

Michael returns and puts the photos by me on the bed. Brian grabs the bag and starts looking through the pictures I brought, tossing the comic book to me to look through. "Hey, Mikey, can we spend the night again tonight?" He asks idly.

"Of course! You guys can stay as long as you want to! Ma wouldn't care even if she knew! She'd love it!"

"Thanks, Mikey. You're the best. Not that we'd really need to ask if things were normal and you couldn't see us, of course." He winks. "But out of courtesy, you know, since you can see us and since we had sex on your couch downstairs.."

"Brian!" I protest, somewhat mortified that he's telling Michael and somewhat excited at the memory. "Shut the fuck up!" I swat at him.

Michael's eyes sparkle wickedly. "Do tell!"

"He doesn't kiss and tell!" I say quickly.

"Of all the people in the world I know, he most decidedly does kiss and tell!"

Brian gets a mock offended look. "I do?"

"Actually, you tell and *then* do. Remember the underwear party, Brian?"

"Yeah, but you enjoyed that, Mikey. And you enjoyed watching."

I look at the two of them in confusion.

"Oh, you weren't around." Brian waves me off. And I know exactly what that means. I was with Ethan. He turns his attention back to Michael. "Mikey, while I'm open to sex of all kinds- gay mostly, although there's been a woman here and there- I don't talk about sex like you boys do. I just DO more of it than you boys do."

"What about with me?" I ask, curious.

"We fuck more in a week than those guys do combined in a year and no, I don't go into details. In fact, I usually just say something vague, like I had an early night the night before. I *can* be a gentleman, you know," Brian says with a wink.

"But you said just the kissing and making out gave you guys multiple orgasms in your ghostly state," Michael complains. "Can't you tell me anything?"

"Actually, Mikey, *Justin* told you that, not me. Maybe you should ask for details from him."

I look at Brian aghast and realize that he's right. Michael turns to me expectantly. "Well?" he says.

"Erm. Well..." I stammer. "What do you want to know? I mean, it was amazing. We don't have to use condoms anymore. The actual act seems to last less long but the actual orgasms last much longer..."

Michael is looking at me with an open mouth. "Coooool!"  
  
"I think with time and diligent practice the actual act on this plane will start lasting longer, Sunshine," Brian smirks.

I blush. I hate talking about this shit around Michael- especially when Brian is here, because Michael starts getting all moony-eyed at Brian and I'm sick of that. And yep, sure enough, Michael turns his gaped expression to Brian. "Maybe I should let Ben or Ethan kill me! Get some of this mean, multiple orgasmic sex!" Michael jokes.  


"Don't you ever EVER say something like that Michael!" Brian's demeanor has turned on a dime and he's gotten into Michael's face with an angry finger and a furious expression.  
  
Michael backs up on the bed, nearly falling off the edge. "Brian, I was just kidding. Calm down. It was just a joke." He's putting out his hands like he's being stuck up at gunpoint.  
  
"That is *nothing* to kid about," Brian says, backing off somewhat.

Michael and I look at each other in surprise at Brian's vehement reaction; me perhaps less surprised than Michael given Brian's determined efforts to keep his best friend safe from the men responsible for his own and his lover's murders.  


"I didn't mean anything by it. Really. Sorry."  
  
"Well, I want you alive a long time, Mikey. I don't even like jokes about you being killed. I couldn't get to Justin in time to save him from being murdered. I'll be fucked if you go, too."  
  
"It really doesn't sound that bad, Brian. I mean, sure, you have to live in some parallel 'plane' or whatever and you can't move objects as well as you could alive--"  
  
"And nobody can see or hear or touch you, you watch your friends and family suffer your loss when you're standing right next to them, and except for me and Justin for whatever reason, you can't be seen, heard or felt by your partner! Not that bad my fucking ass!" Brian hisses. "Dying isn't something to take lightly, Mikey!"

"I know. I certainly didn't when I heard about you dying," he says quietly, a little cowed by Brian's anger.

Brian's expression softens now and he motions for Michael to come closer to him. I can see the focus on Brian's face as he pulls his best friend into an embrace. "I know," Brian says gently. "I was here and I saw you," he adds simply. He pulls away, somewhat exhausted by the effort.

"I’m sorry I joked about dying, Brian," Michael says quietly. 

"I know. I’m sorry I was so mother-hennish. As I said, I just want you to live a long time."

I lean over and kiss Brian on the cheek. He eyes me warily. "What the fuck?"

I grin. "Brian, you really are the sweetest man I know," I say simply- knowing he’ll hate hearing that.

"Fuck off," he snaps.

"Just suck it up and take it," I snort.

Michael smiles. "You are, Brian," he agrees, grinning evilly, also knowing Brian hates that sort of shit.

"I'm outta here," Brian says irritably. He promptly gets up and moves towards the door. "Mikey, just remember what I said and be careful."

I stand and flash a knowing smile at Michael. He knows: Too much schmaltz for Brian.


	27. Chapter 27

  
Author's notes: Um. Hope you like! Love reviews!  


* * *

POV JUSTIN

 

I follow Brian out of Michael’s bedroom door and catch up to him downstairs. Debbie is now watching TV and sobbing.

 

“Fucking soap operas,” Brian huffs, seeing Deb cry.

 

“I don’t think it’s the show she’s watching that’s upsetting her, Bri,” I whisper. “I think it’s still about us.” Vic’s in the kitchen looking unhappy and pensive. 

 

“Fuck this. Fuck all of this!” Brian exclaims. He stalks out of the house and I smile. He can't stand seeing his loved ones in pain, even if he won't say it like that; he *is* the sweetest man I know. But I suppose I’ll keep that more to myself for awhile. I chase after him and this time I catch up to him half way down the block.

 

“Where are you going, Brian?” I ask, gasping after running after him.

 

“I don’t know. To find Ethan and kill him. To find Ben and kill him, too.”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“What? You don’t believe me? They fucking created this mess and they deserve to be off’d because of it.”

 

I nod, nearly jogging to keep up with his long-legged strides. “Yeah. They do. But it’s not in you to kill. I know that. You know that.”

 

“Yeah, it is. They killed you. They killed me. They’re after Mikey. It has to end.”

 

“Brian…”

 

“Shut up, Justin.”

 

Fuck, he’s really angry. “Where are you going to find them?”

 

“They’re probably at their respective schools, teaching, getting taught; whatever,” Brian snaps. “It’s not like I don’t have all the time in the world to find the assholes.”

 

“Debbie’s grief has really gotten to you, hasn’t it?”

 

“Deb’s. Lindsay’s. Vic’s. Emmett’s. Fuck, even Theodore’s. Your mother’s. Yours.”

 

“Brian… stop.” I grab his arm to slow him down and look at me. “Brian, you can’t kill them. You just can’t.”

 

He glares at me. “And why is that, Sunshine? What makes you think I’m this noble ghost who won’t avenge two deaths and many people’s grief?”

 

I sigh. “Because I know you, remember? I'm onto you. You aren’t a killer.”

 

Brian’s shoulders sag. “Fuck. I feel so helpless.”

 

I fold him in my arms. “Brian, none of this is your fault. I know you’re taking blame for all of this. You always do that. In life and in death, you do that. And it’s got to stop.”

 

“So, I go from being sweet to being a martyr?”

 

“You’re both. The latter of the two is unnecessary- you have nothing to be a martyr over.”

 

“Justin, wake up. You were killed because of me. Everyone’s grieving because of me. Two killers are still on the loose because of me.”

 

I tighten my hold on Brian and lay my head against his chest. “That’s not true. Brian, that’s not true. None of this is because of you.”

 

Brian holds me and I feel him start to shake.

 

“Don’t cry, Brian. Gus can see you and feel you; Michael can, too. And I think, if the experiences I had while alive after you passed are any indication- all the people who love you can feel you in some way.”

 

It’s so uncharacteristic for Brian to break down like this and it sort of freaks me out. He’s clinging to me, crying.

 

“Shhhhhh…” I whisper.

 

“Justin, if it hadn’t been for me, for my life, for the way I led my life- none of this shit would’ve happened. You can’t deny that.”

 

“Brian, if you hadn’t led your life the way you did, we wouldn’t be together- on this plane or any plane. It all was meant to happen. All of it.”

 

“That destiny crap again, eh?”

 

“Yeah. That destiny crap again.” I smile against his chest. “It’s real. We’re real. Your loved ones are real. And we’ll see them all again- in a way that we can touch them again. Talk to them again. And we can show them the ropes on how to ‘live’ in the afterworld.”

 

“Wow. What a valuable service to render,” he sobs.

 

“Brian, why are you suddenly so emotional? I don’t understand,” I whisper. “This isn’t like you.”

 

“I don’t know. I’m a silly faggot, I guess. I think this all is just catching up to me big time.” He rests his cheek on the top of my head. “I love that your hair still smells like that herbal shampoo shit you always used.”

 

I chuckle. “First of all, you aren’t a silly faggot. Secondly, it’s no wonder that all of this is catching up to you. Thirdly, you hated that shampoo— but now you’re glad my hair smells of it? You big fat softie.”

 

“’Big fat’ my ass,” he mumbles.

 

“You tall, lean, unbelievably beautiful softie. How’s that?”

 

“A little better. Lose the ‘softie’ part. And the ‘unbelievably beautiful’ part,” he says, his crying abating somewhat.

 

“I’ll do no such thing,” I insist. I kiss his chest through his shirt. “I’m onto you,” I remind him. “I can read your genius mind. And right now, you’re thinking about Ted and Emmett, which is rather shocking.”

 

“Let’s go see them,” he answers simply.

 

I smile again. “’Kay.” I drop my arms and grab his hand. “Let’s go.” I pull him behind me and soon we’re at Torso. Emmett’s there (his party planning business hasn’t taken off yet; funny though: I know it will.) 

 

Emm's not his normal, flouncy, bouncy self- he’s unusually subdued; I haven't seen him since the memorial for Brian- and he was crying like a child there. Fuck, I haven't seen him since then, period. Now he’s folding clothing for a display and looks just as miserable as he did then. Rarely have I seen him like this- the only time besides after Brian was killed have I seen him this somber is after George Shickles passed away- although at Brian's memorial, Emmett was even more of a basket case. I mean, of course he’s had queen-outs, plenty of them- but he was always animated. Now, he's completely depressed and dull.

 

“Fuck. He looks miserable,” Brian comments. “In fact, he looks about as sad as the first few times I checked in on him after I was murdered. Before, you know, before you 'joined' me here.”

 

I nod. Suddenly, in walks Ben and I can hear the low growl in Brian’s chest. I take his hand and squeeze it.

 

“Hey, Emmett! How’s it going?” 

 

“The same, I suppose, sweetie. Losing two of your best friends within weeks of each other takes its toll. But, of course you know that," Emmett sighs. "What brings you here? Torso isn’t exactly your 'scholarly type' of store.” Obviously, he’s clueless as to Ben’s involvement in our deaths- and there’s no reason for him to know. I notice that Brian’s absolutely seething at Ben.

 

Ben chuckles. “You’re right. I came by because I was wondering if you’ve been over to see Michael lately. I think we should throw a small get-together – I mean, I know he’s taking all of this really hard. We all need our family together at a time like this, and the reception after the funeral was a bit big and chaotic. What do you think?”

 

Emmett eyes him suspiciously- Ben seems just a little bit too cheerful under the circumstances; but Ben wasn’t close to either Brian or I, so Emmett seems to brush it off. “Why don’t *you* go to Michael about throwing this shin-dig? I mean, michael's *your* boyfriend.”

 

“Well… I know. But I also know he hasn’t seen you since Brian’s funeral, and I’d think you, as an aspiring party planner, might be better for him to talk to about getting something organized- plus, I presume we’d have the gathering at Deb’s house. That’s where Michael's staying right now.”

 

“That’s IT!” Brian yells; I have to hold him back, tightening my grip on his hand to keep him from 'focusing', as he calls it- and attacking Ben.

 

“Not in front of Emm, Brian! You’ll freak Emmett out!” I whisper, trying to reason with Brian.

 

“Yes, I know that’s where Michael’s staying, sweetie," Emmett says in a whisper. He pauses to think, then he sighs again. "I’ll go over after work and feel him out about a get-together. My mood isn’t very much into parties at the moment, but maybe a small gathering of Brian and Justin’s close friends would be good.”

 

Ben grins and winks at Emmett, then turns and leaves the store. Brian is gritting his teeth and I keep a firm hold on his hand to keep him from chasing after the creep. Ben's got something up his sleeve, and Brian knows it as well as I do. 

 

Emmett sighs. “He seems awfully chipper, even if he wasn’t close to those two. I mean, his partner’s best friend and business partner were both killed. I’d think he’d be more affected,” he mutters to himself.

 

Finally calmed, Brian goes over to Emmett and gives him one of those ‘whooshy’ hugs that feel wonderful even if you don’t know what the hell it is. He looks sad now, sorry that now Emmett is unwittingly caught up in this weird scheme-slash-scenario.

 

Emmett shivers and smiles. I go hug him too, and he shivers again. He prepares to leave work; it's gotten dark out at this time of year. He wraps an outrageous scarf around his neck, bundles into a hot pink jacket and closes the shop. We watch him trudge towards Michael's.

Brian and I sit on the front steps of the store for awhile, not saying much.   


 

“I wish we could tell him what’s going on,” I say after a little time goes by.

 

“Well, we might not be able to tell him, but we can tell Mikey,” Brian states resolutely. “There’s no way Ben's going to get into that house just because he manipulates Emmett into organizing a get-together.”

 

“Okay. It’s getting kind of late. And we can see Ted tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow’s your funeral.”

 

I sigh. “Well, we’ll see him there, I suppose.”

 

We get back to Michael’s and something is terribly wrong- cop cars with their lights flashing are on the street in front of the house and there’s an ambulance out front.

 

“FUCK!” Brian mutters to himself and he sprints up the porch steps and into the house- I follow him. There’s pandemonium all around and Brian calls out for Michael. No answering call has us both worried- Brian is scared shitless, but of course we can’t ask anyone what happened- no one but Michael can see or hear us.

 

“Brian, over here-“I say, seeing two cops talking about what’s happened. He rushes over.

 

“—broke into the basement,” we overhear one cop say to the other.

 

“I thought there were a couple of policemen guarding the house,” the other responds.

 

“There were- it was during a shift change- our guys were being relieved by their replacements and must have been distracted.”

 

“FUCK! Dammit, what HAPPENED?” Brian yells uselessly- essentially silently- at the cops.

 

“Is he going to be okay?”

 

The first cop looks at his notepad. “The son, 'Michael', is in critical condition, multiple stab wounds. The mother- 'Deborah'- and the uncle – 'Victor'- look bad; we aren’t sure if they’ll make it. They should be arriving at Allegheny General shortly. No one was conscious to say what exactly happened, or who attacked them. We think the son had enough wherewithal to dial 911 on his cell phone before he passed out. 

"It’s a shame, really- the family was close with those two other murdered gay men--” 'two murdered gay men'? That’s what we are? “—you know, Brian Kinney, that fancy, 'oh-so-handsome' ad exec. And his partner, that artist kid who was also recently killed. Horvath thinks there’s a connection between the murders and attacks, but he was so upset for the mother here, he simply followed the ambulances to the hospital and didn’t stick around long. He’s been seeing this 'Deborah' for a few months, I guess.”

 

Shit. Shitshitshit. I look over and Brian’s gone, he transported out of here as soon as he heard of his surrogate family going to the hospital; I was so absorbed in the horrors the cop was relaying, I amazingly didn’t notice. I quickly follow him and am there in an instant; I find him in the OR where they’re operating on Michael. “Brian, come on- you don’t want to see this.” Admittedly, I’m squeamish; Michael looks bad.

 

Brian’s crying, very quietly. He focuses his hand and gives Michael’s hand a squeeze. “C’mon, Mikey. You’re strong. You’ll pull through this, then I’ll kick your ass for scaring me so bad,” he whispers. Then, he drops his arms at his sides sadly and follows me out. “I have to see Deb and Vic,” he says to me quietly.

 

I put my hand at the nape of his neck and gently massage the tension there. “Okay,” I say simply, looking around. I have no idea where they’ve been taken.

 

But Brian seems to instinctively know, and leads me to another OR where they’re working on Deb. She looks scarily bloody and I have to look away or I’ll throw up. Brian just stares at her in disbelief- someone so vital, so alive- unconscious and bleeding on an OR table. The doctors are working frantically while all the beeps of the machines are making ominous noises.

 

“Deb, make it, you have to!” Brian demands and then I pull him from the room. It’s too much to take. Deb’s his mother, essentially- he doesn’t need to see her like that. 

 

He leads me next door and we walk in to see a similar situation with Vic. “Vic, you old shit! Make it!” He mutters. I vaguely wonder if the operating team knows Vic's HIV status. I’m sure he wore a medic alert bracelet, although I've never noticed one. Again, I lead Brian out and we go sit down in the waiting room. Not that we’ll have a doctor come to us and tell us the status of our family; but we both need to sit down.

 

Suddenly, Emmett bursts into the ER and rushes over to the nurse’s desk. “The Novotny’s! The Grassi's! How are they?” He asks anxiously. He must have gone to the house after work and found the same pandemonium we did.

 

“Sir, are you a relative?”

 

“I’m a very close family friend- they don’t have any blood relatives to call; I’m it.”

 

Good ol’Emm.

 

“Very well, sir. They are all currently in surgery. A doctor or doctors will come out after to speak with you,” she says calmly. “You can wait over there- that’s the waiting room. There’s a payphone if you have anyone you would like to call. You can’t use a cell phone in the hospital, I’m afraid.”

 

He comes over next to us and sits down, putting his head in his hands. He starts to cry and my heart breaks for him. I can tell Brian’s does too. I’m sure he’s wondering what the *fuck* is happening to his surrogate family. Two murders; three vicious attacks… I wish I could read minds as well as Brian. 

 

After a few minutes, he collects himself and goes to the payphone to let people know what’s happened.

 

“Fucking piece of SHIT Ethan must have done this! Ben was at Torso manipulating Emmett; he couldn’t have done this and gotten there so fast. And not without blood on him. That was gruesome…” Brian seethes, shuddering. “Fuck. They have to make it. Deb, Vic and Mikey have to make it. Fuck!!!”

 

“They will, Brian. They’re a tough family; and they had to contend with you as a boy. If they can survive that, they can survive this.” I wink at him so he knows I don’t mean that at all about surviving him as a boy.

 

“Actually, they helped me to survive through my 'boyhood',” he whispers.

 

“I know." Right now, I *can* read his mind; and I know all that he endured as a child. I'm constantly trying to put it out of my own mind- what he went through was horrific and I know Brian wants to bury those memories away. But he can't. Even so, while I know he knows *I* know, I don't talk to him about it- at least not yet. "Brian, they’ll be okay- it will be a long road back to 100%, but they have friends and us to look after them.” 

 

Truly, I myself am just letting it all sink in- I’ve been trying to keep it together for Brian; but the mental images of the bloody house, of how terribly hurt the Novotny/Grassi’s are- they seep into the forefront of my mind and I start to feel sick.

 

“’Us to look after them’? What are 'we' gonna do? Haunt them? We have no influence on them.”

 

“We have influence on Michael…”

 

“If he makes it…” Brian has hardly raised his voice above a whisper since we sat down and it’s almost eerie.

 

“Stop that. He’s going to make it. And he’ll ID Ethan.”

 

Just then, members of our freakshow family start to trickle in and grill Emmett about Michael, Deb and Vic’s condition. They’re all visibly shaken, wondering like Emmett is what’s happening to their family and friends. Then Ben comes in and Brian tenses.

 

Ben doesn’t look as shaken- he looks angry- he's not in his Zen Ben mode. “Did they catch the fucker who did this?” He demands loudly, surprising the others.

 

Emmett finally speaks up. “I don’t think so. I got to their house and the place was swarming with cops and medics- they think Michael pushed 911 before he passed out.  They were all unconscious by the time the cops arrived,” he sobs.

 

Gus is in Linds’ arms and spots me and Brian. “Dada! Jusin!” He squirms to get out of his mother’s grasp. “Down! See Dada!”

 

Brian and I look at each other helplessly. Everyone else looks at Gus in shock. “Honey, Lambskin, Dada and Justin aren’t here. They’re in heaven now,” Lindsay tries to explain.

 

“NO! Dey’re dere! Right dere!” He insists. He doesn’t understand about why 'we’re' all here in the hospital; he doesn’t know Michael very well; just Deb. And I don’t think Linds has told him about the grim reason why everyone's here.

 

She sighs and lets him down; he bee-lines for Brian and climbs onto the bench beside him. Brian gets a small smile through his silent tears, gets up and sits on his son’s other side, so Gus is now between us. Brian tightly hugs his boy.

 

“Why cryin’, Dada?” Gus sounds scared- seeing his Dad like this must be unnerving. It is to me, and I’m a grown man.

 

“I’m sad, Gus. Someone hurt some people very close to me.”  
  


“Who, Dada?”

 

He glances at me and then to Lindsay, wondering whether he should tell the boy. “I think you should ask your Mommy that, Gus.”

 

“Mommy- Dada says some people he’s close to got hurt an’ I should ask you who.”

 

Everyone stops talking and stares at the child. “Lindsay, did you tell him why we're here?” Mel asks her.

 

She shakes her head no. “He must have overheard some of the conversations here in the waiting room,” she rationalizes. “Gus, you know Uncle Michael, Great Uncle Vic and Gramma Debbie?”

 

He looks at her like she’s asking the stupidest question in the world and Brian and I can’t help a short laugh. He’s Brian’s son, for sure. I mean, of *course* he knows them! “Yeah,” Gus answers simply.

 

“Well, they got very hurt today, so they’re here at the hospital so the doctors can work on them.”

 

Gus turns to Brian. “I don’ like to see you so sad, Dada. Dey’ll be okay- doctor Grant fixes me when I’m sick.”

 

“I don’t like to be sad, either, Gus. And I hope the doctors here can fix them,” Brian answers quietly.

 

“Jusin, you’re not cryin’. Are you sad?” Gus asks me.

 

“Very, Gus. It hasn’t all sunk in yet- I know I will cry once it has.” Besides, I have to be here for Brian and we can’t both be a mess.

 

Brian glares at me and I realize he read my thoughts just then. I’m not a ‘mess’, Justin, he telepathies to me.

 

I know; I silently answer. I just want to be strong for you like you always are for me. 

 

And that’s true. He is. Always strong for me.


	28. Chapter 28

  
Author's notes:

First, I've made some revisions to the last chapter; FYI. 

Secondly, folks- I've finished this story, so this is one of the last chapters- it's been a labor of love, one of the stories I've really enjoyed writing. There will be a few more chapters and an epilogue. I love reviews- THANK YOU.

This chap takes place in the hospital after the Novotny's have all been savagely attacked and are in surgery... 

* * *

POV BRIAN 

This simply cannot be happening. It’s impossible. Impossible. That fucker Ian got Mikey and his family, too. Most of the freakshow family have gone home by now- just Justin, me and Emmett remain. I admire Emmett for sticking around alone- or he thinks he’s alone, not knowing we’re here. He’s pacing, waiting for the doctor's or doctors’ word. It’s after 10PM, and I’ve checked on Deb, Vic and Mikey several times; they're still in surgery. But at least they're still alive. 

“This is torture,” I mutter to Justin. 

He just nods. 

“Fuck, I want a cigarette,” I complain. “A cigarette and a cup of strong coffee.” 

He just nods again and squeezes my hand. I hadn’t realized he’d been holding it. 

I notice Emmett looking up at the doors and I follow his gaze. And it's ETHAN! My blood begins to boil and I feel Justin tense up next to me- either because it’s the murderer, or because he’s afraid of what I’ll do- right now, I’m too mad to read him. 

“Ethan? What are you doing here?” Emmett asks. “I didn’t know you knew Michael and his family.” 

“Well, I know Justin worked with Michael and was close with his mom and uncle, and when I heard what happened, I thought I’d see how they were doing.” 

“Well, they’re all still in surgery and have been for quite awhile. But no bad news yet, except that this happened in the first place, of course.”

“Well, I guess as they say, no news is good news. Hey, would you mind keeping me posted? Here’s my cell number; I’m afraid I can’t stick around.” 

“Um. Sure,” Emmett still sounds puzzled, but he takes the number. I’m about to blow, I’m so furious. Justin keeps trying to calm me by stroking the back of my hand but I’m not having it. Ethan leaves and I’m right on his tail- and Justin’s on mine. 

When he gets into the darkened parking lot, I pounce him. 

“Brian, NO!” Justin yells, trying to pull me off him. But my rage is too fired up right now, and it’s like I’m in my living body again, my energy is so potent. “Brian, stop!” 

But I don’t. And I get a grim satisfaction at the look of utter confusion on Ian's face, wondering again what’s going on as he did before when I attacked him in that alley. Finally I push him hard against a car and he doubles over, no longer held up by my punches. I spit on him and look at Justin, who’s crying. 

“Please, Brian, stop…” he begs. 

I soften, but I have to ask, “Why are you so concerned with this shit? He fucking killed you, he masterminded my murder, he viciously hurt Mikey’s family… I don’t get it.” 

“I don't care about Ethan, Brian… I just… I just don’t like to see you like this. It kind of… it kind of scares me. You’re such a gentle soul and to see you capable of beating someone up makes me scared.” 

“You’re *scared* of me? Like I’d beat you up?” That’s sobering. 

“No. I don’t think you’d do that. But I’ve just never seen you like this. Even at Lindsay and Mel’s anniversary party when you hit Michael, you calmly walked away afterwards.” 

“Mikey’s my best friend. I’d never pummel him. I pummeled some of the bullies who were pestering him in school, though. I’m no ‘gentle soul’, Sunshine. Sorry to burst your bubble. But if someone hurts someone I care about, you’re damned straight I’ll fight.” 

“I guess I’ve just never seen you so angry.” 

“Well, you’ve never seen me confront my partner’s and my murderer, and my best friend’s family's attacker,” I snark. 

Justin looks over at Ethan, who is limping towards his car. 

“Justin, don’t you dare feel sorry for that scumbag!” 

“I don’t! I hate him as much as you do- even more, since he was responsible for your death! I don’t feel sorry for him! Look… I just want to go back inside, okay?” 

I snort, but follow him inside. What a softie he is, fuck. I immediately see a doctor talking to Emmett and I hurry over to hear the news. 

“Well, Mr. Novotny—“ 

“—Michael,” Emmett interrupts. I roll my eyes. 

“Michael is in critical condition, but he’s stable. He’s in ICU now. Mrs. Novotny’s--"

"--Deb."

"Deb's touch and go at the moment, I’m sorry to say. She lost a lot of blood, and some of her wounds were very deep. We’re keeping a very close eye on her, but we decided to stop the surgical procedures for the time being to let her body rest. We stopped the bleeding and have given her transfusions, but we expect we’ll have to conduct more surgery at a later time.”

”And Vic?” 

He looks down. “Vic sustained a great number of stab wounds, and given his weakened condition with his HIV status, he probably won’t make it- I’m very sorry to tell you that. But he, too, is in ICU being very closely monitored. All of them are in comas, I'm afraid- if they wake up, their chances greatly improve.” 

Emmett holds back a sob. “What are each of their chances?” He chokes out. 

“Right now in their current states, Michael has the best chance, at around 75-80%; Deb has about a 60% chance. Vic has about a 35% chance. I'm not hopeful that Vic will wake from his coma. I'm sorry.” 

Emmett gasps, as do I. 

“Now, there’s no reason to give up hope, Mr. Honeycutt—“

“Emmett.”

“Emmett. They’re all alive, which is amazing in and of itself. It was a brutal attack, and I hope they catch the culprit. Believe it or not, having visitors may help them feel the pull to life they need, so I’d encourage your friends to make brief visits with each of them. I’m sorry the news isn’t better, but it could be much worse.” 

Emmett looks shell shocked. “Thank you, doctor. How soon can everyone visit?” 

“I’d give the three of them a day or two- they’re all heavily sedated. After that, just have people come during visiting hours and don’t have anyone visit too long, as Deb, Vic and Michael all need their rest.” 

“Okay. Thank you again,” Emmett says in a small voice. Despite the fuck-awful news, I’m proud of Emmett, sticking it out and getting the information and not completely queening out. Not even *BEN* stayed- not that I mind that, of course- I just thought he’d stick it out for appearances sake, being Michael's husband and all.


	29. Chapter 29- second to last chap

  
Author's notes: This is almost it- the epilogue comes next. Phew! Brian and Justin are at the hospital to be there for the Novotny's. And the culprit is discovered. Reviews loved!!  


* * *

P 

POV JUSTIN

I look at Brian and find myself nearly fucking *swooning*. Fuck, he's so beautiful. 

And shit, he's in so much pain. As is the norm in this 'plane': I can feel his emotions. As hard to read as he was in life, I still could read him then. And now I can *feel* him; and he is dying all over again. And it kills me. 

I know he can read me too- even better than I can him- and I vainly try to keep my thoughts to myself. But he looks at me and I can feel his sadness, his unbelievable rage, his fear wash over me.

And I know he can feel all the sorrow, the anguish, the fear and absolute rage I'm going through. 

"Brian, I'm sorry…" I mumble.

He manages a small smile; "Sorry's bullshit, and you have nothing to be sorry about, Sunshine."

I find my eyes starting to water in earnest and I kick myself. Shit! "I don't care, Brian. I mean, I care. I love you. Still, I do have a lot to be sorry for. But, Brian, I just… I know what you're going through. Or, I can't actually *know*- but Bri- I…"

"Oh, lord!" Brian interrupts. "Quit with the 'love' shit again."

"Um. Sorry, but, all I have to present you with is 'that 'love' shit.' And, Brian, accept it, you stupid, stupid ass! Fuck! We're dead and, what is it called? Oh, right: we've 'Pierced the Veil'! We're the second couple in time – the first couple in the last 2000 years to be the ones to 'pierce the veil'! Brian, Kemp told us that our love was destined to be… to be… fuck: to be infinite! Eternal!" I break down; "Brian… Brian, I love you more than… I love you more than my teddy bear, Gus."

That causes both of us to pause. "Your bear?" He finally asks.

I take a few moments. "Um, weird example, maybe- but the only other who I loved and wanted around with me all the time as a boy was Gus. Until I found you."

Brian rolls his eyes and I can't say as I blame him. "What difference does that make right now? Michael's got an 80% chance to live, Debbie has about a 60% chance. Vic has a 35% chance. What do Mikey, Vic and Deb have anything to do with any of this? *Nothing*! I brought on this whole chain of events and innocent people are dying and getting hurt and manipulated! So, we pierced the veil! So WHAT? So what if you believe you love me more than a fucking stuffed bear? 

"So what if I have so-called special powers as a ghost!?" He continues. "What have I done to help any of these innocent people from being killed and hurt? WHAT?" Brian's in a rage, angry at himself and obviously at the situation.

I move closer to him on this bench on the hospital's second floor balcony and simply wrap my arms around him. "Brian," I whisper, "you aren't responsible for any of this. None of it. And we don't know what's going to happen with Michael, Deb or Vic- whatever it is isn't YOUR fault. If they live, it'll be fantastic; if they don't, we help them adjust on this plane. In every circumstance that's transpired since the night you were shot, you didn't control the outcome; I know you want control over whatever happens to the ones you love, but no one can control life and death.

"If anything, you've done more than probably should be possible: you felt my fear and raced to save me, which Jason Kemp said was destined not to happen- yet he was amazed you had that sense of dread before Ethan grabbed that fucking knife, since as one who pierced the veil, you aren't allowed that power. Still, you do have that power. You helped me immeasurably with adjusting to this 'life'; this afterlife-- without you, I don't know what I would have done. Exploded or something." I take a deep, shaky breath before I continue. 

"You uncovered the plot of who was behind all of this mayhem and why. You've watched over all your friends and family and hugged them even if they didn't know what the sensation was that they were feeling. You've protected Michael as much as anyone possibly could; if it weren't for you figuring everything out, this would all seem like some sick serial killer mystery and Michael would never have had guards at all- this probably would have all gone down sooner with Michael, Vic and Deb, and who knows with what results.

"Shit, Brian: in other words, not only is none of this your fault- you've saved people from being killed and hurt. More than one man probably should have the power to. Especially a… well, especially a dead man. A very loved dead man. The most loved dead man in the world. I know that. Because even if the only one who loved and loves you is me- no one else could love you more," I whisper. Shit. I'm surprised he doesn't flatten me for being such a sap.

Of course, he doesn't. Brian's head is resting on my shoulder, his face in the crook of my neck. I feel his shoulders shake and his silent tears fall on my skin and my heart breaks; I find I'm crying too. So, here we are, sitting outside on this deserted balcony on the second floor of the hospital right next to ICU, crying together. I hold him tight, his strong body quaking; shit, he's incredible. He's hardly the unfeeling man he pretends to be- he loves makeshift family more than anything. And he loves me even more deeply, even if he scoffs at the notion of love. 

"Let's go sit with them," Brian says quietly, choking back his tears.

I nod. We've been sitting with them almost constantly since we heard where they were after their surgery and finally, we needed a break. Since it's deserted here, Brian smoked without fear of someone freaking out about a 'floating' cigarette- that's one of the things Brian hates about being a ghost. He can't manipulate objects on the living plane without the living noticing- particularly, cigarettes and liquor.

He takes my hand and pulls me up. He leads me into a simple, sexy, close dance and I fucking almost faint. "Brian…" I say quietly. 

"Hmmmm?" He responds.

"Brian, I'm so glad I'm dead. I'm so glad you're dead. I'm so glad we're—"

I feel Brian snickering. "—Justin, I'm glad we're together, too," Brian's voice isn't even a trace above a whisper. 

But he's literally ballroom dancing me back through the wall of ICU- and we both gasp. "HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET IN HERE!?!?" Brian yells. Ethan is over by Michael's bed, fucking with the machines attached to him. I don't even see Brian, he's so fast as he leaps over and tackles the piece of shit; the force of the blow throws Ethan about 15 feet and hurtles him into the wall. I let him deal with Ethan and go to Michael to see what Ethan had done; I don't know how the wiring is supposed to be on his body but thank God a nurse is rushing in having gotten an alarm at the nurse's station. I don't have the powers that Brian has to impact the living plane so all I can do is watch.

She tends to Michael and then notices Ethan, sprawled against the wall, unconscious. "What the…" she mutters. She presses the call button for more staff and continues to fix whatever it is that Ethan did to mess up Michael's machines and monitors. I rush over to Brian and pull him away from Ethan. 

"Brian, stop! No more! There's a nurse here fixing whatever Ethan did to Michael's machines and life support and more people are coming to deal with Ethan!"

He looks over, tears of rage and sadness wetting his cheeks. Then he smiles. 

Huh? "What are you smiling at?" I can't read him at all right now.

"This may be our answer."

"What do you mean?"

"Ethan is obviously not supposed to be in here- it's 3AM and all visitors have to sign in anyway. It's obvious that Mikey's machines have been tampered with- Ethan's the only one in here who could have done that—"

"But he's unconscious against the wall!"

"Some of those machines pack a wollop, 'electricity-wise'." He smirks. "I think the nurses, docs and orderlies might, with a little mind assistance from yours truly, surmise that while Ethan was tampering with a machine, he mishandled it and touched a high voltage part and was thrown." Brian's grinning. 

"Via 'a little mind assistance'? Brian, you don't have that power!"

"Tsk, tsk, Sunshine. I'm going to develop it. You'll find, Justin, that with our piercing the veil crap- if you want a power hard enough, you can achieve it. I think that's the secret to all these weird, unheard of powers I seem to have that Kemp had no idea about. Like seeing, hearing and touching Gus and him being able to do the same with us; like being able to travel far distances in an instance; like being solid enough to attack Ethan—"

"Like tackling him right now. Fuck, Brian, you shot after him so fast, I couldn't see you!" Brilliant. "And Brian… you being here with me." Of course, that warrants an eye roll. "What about the vision thing? You seeing how I died- er, was killed."

He winces a little and then shrugs. "Maybe on some level, my guilt undermined my conscious thought; or maybe how you were killed was something I was meant to see. I don't know." 

"Brian…"

Fuck. I can feel how guilty he feels.

"Brian. Brian, please." During this time, several orderlies have come in and are tending to Ethan. I look at Brian who is peering strangely at the fucker- and Ethan wakes up. I gasp. "Brian, did you just 'will' him to wake up?"

He winks at me. "I'm not sure, Sunshine," he says honestly. "But the timing is perfect."

"What's going on? Where am I?" Ethan mutters.

"You're in the ICU at Allegheny General. Maybe you can tell us why you're here?" One of the orderlies asks. A security guard comes into the ward; Brian and I watch this with fascination- and Brian has a look of concentration on his face I've never seen before.

"I… I think I was electrocuted…"

"Brian! How'd you do that?"

"I actually was thinking it, but I think he believes it's the only explanation for being thrown by an invisible force so far. I don't think it's just me."

"Fuck. This is incredible," I whisper.

"What, being dead watching the living isn't incredible enough?" Brian snaps.

I grin.

"Electrocuted, sir?" The orderly asks.

Then the nurse who tended to Michael comes over. "This man," she gestures towards Ethan, "he tampered with Mr. Novotny's life support and monitors. He's in here illegally, and given what I just fixed on the machines keeping Mr. Novotny alive and stable, Mr. Gold's intent was to kill him."

The orderlies gasp and the security officer steps forward. "Who are you?" He demands, roughly pulling Ethan to a stand.

Suddenly, Ethan's mind seems to clear and he understands his predicament. "You don't understand! I had come to visit Michael- he's a dear friend! The machines didn't seem to be operating properly and I was trying to help, to fix them!"

Everyone exchanges glances expressing doubt. "First of all," the nurse says coldly, "there is no way you could be in here at this hour without sneaking in or having special permission- which, in Mr. Novotny's case, no one has at this time. You'd also have had to sign in even if you had some special permission- you couldn't have as no one has signed in all night; so you sneaked in here. And finally, why don't you describe to me how you were 'fixing' the machines? Only a trained RN or doctor would know how to hook up life support, or 'fix' it if something went wrong; in fact, I can't even think of a time it's happened that something went wrong on a machine." 

Brian is thoroughly enjoying this and he comes over to me and gives me a big, fat, juicy kiss. I can feel the hope and promise in his heart- the feeling that Ethan is finally going to be stopped. Brian holds me from behind as we both watch the 'show'. "Ethan's *so* stupid," he comments in my ear- I can hear the grin in his voice. "All these monitors and machines are hooked into the nurses' station- if something goes wrong or if something's adjusted or anything, the nurses know immediately."

I smile widely. 

Ethan's speechless, unable to come up with any logical explanation or answer to the nurse's accusations.

"Call the police," she tells the security officer who's holding a helpless Ethan.

He nods and cuffs Ethan, leading him from the room. The nurse double check's Michael's life support machines, nods to the orderlies and they all leave.

"Fuck, I wish I could send that woman flowers and chocolates and tickets to a cruise!" Brian exclaims.

I swat his arm. "You never did anything like that for me!" I mock-bitch.

"Hm. Wonder what that means? Maybe I'm a closet hetero."

I laugh and we go to the ER entrance where Horvath has arrived – in record time, actually.

"Carl must have been here waiting to hear about Deb," Brian comments.

Of course. "He looks mad as hell," I note. 

"Well, he should be."

"So, Taylor was right all along, eh, Gold?" He spits. "You were behind this whole thing! Brian's murder- and I wouldn't put it by you to be the one who killed Justin! And now Deb, Vic and Michael? Why?"

Ethan's eyes are cold, heartless. "Listen, you fat old, STUPID man, Kinney was in the way of everyone's lovelife! You fucking shit- Ben Bruckner was in on this too!"

"Hee!" Brian says in glee as he watches and listens. I've never heard him say *that* before. 'Hee'? "I just knew Ethan would spill and take everyone down with him!" Brian exclaims.

"Tell me what happened," Horvath demands, crossing his arms.

"Kinney was with my only love. With Justin. And he was in the way of me being with my sweetheart-"

Brian makes a gagging noise. 

"--with Kinney gone, Justin was free to love ME! And with Ben: like with Justin, Michael's first love was also always Kinney- Ben always came second and again, with Kinney out of the way, Michael would be able to devote all of his heart to his husband. Whatever the fuck is with that dipshit Kinney, I have no clue. All the wonderful, beautiful men love him; fuck, the women too." Then he chuckles. "Sorry: lovED, past tense," he adds. "If it weren't for Kinney, Justin would be alive and with me." 

I turn and face Brian. He looks like he's going to blow apart. 

"No. Brian- no! You're… fuck, Brian. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be living. I might be alive, but I wouldn't be living. I… well, you already know."

And fuck- I mean it!

Ethan then catches our attention. Or, mine. Brian is more focused on me – more than I've ever seen. "So, Ben and I were talking one night at Woody's and this plan to get Kinney out of the way for good was devised. Fucking Kinney!" He spits out. "We hired an old classmate of mine—"

"Broderick," Carl states flatly.

"Yeah, asshole, Brad Broderick. We hired him to kill Kinney and make it look like a mugging. So, for enough cash, he was willing to and shot Brian as he and his 'Sunshine' were walking home at night from Babylon."

I wince and turn into Brian's embrace. "Shit. Brian, shit," I mumble.

"Shhh... Sunshine..." he whispers and I turn around in his embrace once more to see what's happening.   


Of course, Horvath knows all of what Ethan's recounted so far already, but he's still listening. His junior officers are madly taking notes, but Horvath just stands with his arms crossed over his chest looking mad. "So, you succeeded; Brian's dead. Justin knew what you did though. He knew it was you, Broderick and Bruckner. But we could only get Broderick, who confessed but wouldn't name you and Bruckner. He was probably scared he'd be dead if he did." Horvath pauses. "So, why did you kill Justin?"

"Who says I did?" Ethan ventures evasively.

Carl just raises an eyebrow and waits.

"Fuck! Ben living with Michael gave him access to Brian's key and alarm code. He gave them to me, and I went over there to plant bugs to see what Justin was doing, thinking- he'd been holed up in that loft forever since Brian died; and Justin was acting strangely, like he could see and talk to his dead 'lover'-" that last word Ethan says with a sneer. I look up at Brian's profile. His jaw is clenched. "Anyway, before I went in, I knocked and knocked to see if Justin was there. He never answered, so I let myself in and was planting the devices when I saw my yearbook on the kitchen island.

Horvath winces, realizing now he'd left the yearbook behind after Justin had shown him the images.

"I saw that Brad and my photo pages were flagged and immediately knew that Justin knew of at least my and Brad's involvement in Kinney's untimely demise. There was no way he would have flagged us both- and the flags said 'S#1' and 'S#2'- and the writing wasn't his. The 'S' obviously stood for 'Suspect' and he had shown our pictures to someone- probably the cops."

Horvath winces again; he'd marked the pages in the yearbook.

"Then little Justin, little Judas, came out of the bedroom, pretending he hadn't heard me because he'd been asleep when I knocked - what a fucking liar. He obviously didn't count on me having a key and the alarm code.

"So, I confronted him. He was making up some lame lie about picking up random yearbooks at the library to sketch from, and hadn't known that one was mine; then he said something ludicrous about marking the pages he wanted to sketch. I was getting more and more angry at his deliberate lying, and kept asking him how he knew, how he knew I was involved in Brian *Fucking* Kinney's death. 

"Justin kept lying, saying he didn't, and then he tried to say how great it was that he'd also happened upon the picture of the man who shot Kinney and he was going to sketch him and take it to the police. The more and more nervous he got, the more and more angry I got and the more and more stupid his story got! I mean, really: make a sketch when you have the photo right there?"

I look at Brian and he has an angry scowl on his face now; he saw all of this in his vision and I know he wants to throttle Ethan as he recalls the details of what happened.

"Finally," Ethan continues, "I got fed up. I'd already decided to kill 'Brian's Sunshine' when I saw his deception, saw that he was so STUPID to not recognize my love for him and so FUCKING IDIOTIC to keep holding this intense love for a dead man—I just wanted to hear his explanation first. And it was so weak, I grabbed one of Justin's 'lover's' own steak knives and approached. I thought it poetic justice that Justin die by his dead 'partner's' knife, in his dead 'partner's' loft. And I stabbed him to death. Fuck, it felt good- if I couldn't have him, no one else would; and the other poetic justice was that in 'Sunshine's' last weeks, he was miserable without that sack of shit Kinney who he'd seen murdered in front of his very own eyes!!"

Brian holds me tighter and we both take a deep breath at the level of anger and psychosis Ethan was showing. We both note that all the cops, including Detective Horvath, are also sucking in a breath, their mouths slightly open, shocked at Ethan's vehemence and twisted logic. 

Ethan doesn't even seem to remember where he is or who he's admitting his sick crimes to. He seems to be relishing reliving them. "I stabbed that two-timing shit Taylor as many times as I could. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be a suspect- most people knew I had wanted him back. 

"Later, I met with Ben at the bar and told him why I'd killed Justin. He was actually pleased for several reasons; his little Michael always had a weird jealousy thing with Justin because Justin got what Michael always craved: Brian's love and partnership, hot sex and all. With no Justin, there was no residual rivalry between Michael and Justin, which would keep Brian alive in a way- alive and standing between Ben and Michael.

"Ben said even after Justin left Brian for me for that short period, Brian still put Justin first and Michael still put Brian first. At some anniversary party, Justin and I showed up and Michael ranted to Brian about how 'dare Justin show up after what he'd done to Brian, leaving him'- and Brian *defended* Justin! Finally, Ben's little Michael said something about how Brian should have left Justin on that hard garage floor after being bashed.

"Brian clocked him. Right there in the middle of the party.

"So, Ben was pleased that Justin was out of the way as well- like I said, no more *anything* to keep even the notion of Kinney alive without that rivalry. Memories of Kinney would fade.

"Then Ben dropped a bomb on me, that fucker. He asked if there was any picture or indication of his involvement in the plot to kill Kinney in Justin's apartment. I told him no, but didn't anticipate that then he'd tell me that he was pulling out of the plan. With nothing connecting him to the crime, and with Kinney and Justin gone, he was free now to live happily ever after with Michael. Double crossing asshole! I told him I'd spill about him if I was caught, and he said no one would believe me! Especially not Michael! 

"He said he'd never said a cross word about Brian and never kept Michael from seeing his best friend; so Michael wouldn’t believe him capable of plotting such a crime against his Brian- it'd be his and Michael's word against mine!" Ethan takes a deep, shuddery breath, the rage making him shake.

"So, then I decided Ben would have to pay. What better way than to kill his beloved husband, Michael? For some reason, Michael's house was being guarded- I began to suspect that the Novotny's knew about the plot behind Brian's murder and maybe even what happened with Justin's murder. They all had to go. I stalked the house, waited one night for the routine guard shift change, popped open a basement window and stabbed them all in their sleep. And fucking thought I'd killed them! When I heard they were still alive, even with the slim chance they had of surviving, I couldn't take any chances. They all woke with the initial stab and saw me- I had to keep stabbing… what a release!" He practically purrs.

Brian looks away and backs up like he might be sick. "Oh, fuck…" he mutters weakly, sitting on the floor; I'm sickened too and sit down next to him. I gently pull his head into my lap and stroke his hair softly.

"So, I had to come here and finish the job. Fucking bitch nurse!" He clenches his fists and is enraged, but quiet.

The cops are aghast. Carl is green and excuses himself, rushing to the restroom to be sick.

I cannot fathom that I dated this psycho, no matter how briefly. I feel like I might throw up too, but I try to hold it together for Brian who is lying on the floor, head in my lap, hugging himself. 

And it was me who brought this disgusting, crazy lunatic into our lives, all our lives… "I'm sorry, Brian," I whisper, unable to read his mind but knowing obviously how he's feeling and what he's thinking about the horror Ethan just gleefully revealed. 

Brian doesn't respond.

Carl comes back from the bathroom, red splotches on his cheeks, having probably thrown up and having definitely been crying. "Take him and book him," he tells his men hoarsely. "No need to be gentle," he adds.

Three officers roughly yank Ethan out of the hospital. There are two officers remaining. "Find Bruckner. Arrest him. He works at Carnegie Mellon I think- a professor; or else it's the University of Pittsburgh. I don't recall which. Just get him. Arrest him." Carl looks at his watch. " It's 7AM now- as I recall, he has very early classes. So preferably, arrest him in front of a large class. Embarrass him."

Brian looks up at Carl and manages a weak smile; he likes the Detective's style.

"Brian, come on. It's all over. You did it. You did. And you saved Michael's life tonight. Let's go see how they are. You can do that mind thing you seem to have developed in 5 minutes and talk to them inside their heads; it might help."

He looks at me oddly. "What a weird suggestion," he remarks. But he gets up and we go to ICU.


	30. Chapter 30

  
Author's notes:

This is it, the end of the Ghost series- thank you for your reviews! Please post whether you've enjoyed the series. 

I've really enjoyed writing this, and I know I'm slow on updating all of my series- but I always will, so long as there's a place to do so (pleasepleaseplease- I say that because I love to READ the fic as much as write it!) I just have no beta, so I'm wary to post before I am sure what I've written is 'okay'. 

Anyway, thank you all, and please review! :) [PS: if anyone thinks a sequel would be an alright read, lemme know...]

Love YOU! 

* * *

POV BRIAN- EPILOGUE 

We get to ICU; I'm still feeling ill over Ethan and his story about everything I already knew and then about what he did to my surrogate family – my family since the age of 14. I lead Sunshine to Vic's bed. There's no way he won't pull through- even with a 35% chance. This man has been my mentor, my rock, a quiet but incredibly powerful presence in my life. I sit next to him and take his hand, pained at how hurt he is. I try what I tried earlier for the first time with Ethan- to get into his head. 

'Vic, it's Brian. Sunshine's here too. Vic, wake up. This is not your time, I know it's not. We got the fucker who did this to you, by the way. He'll never hurt you or anyone else again. Vic, wake up, you old bastard! You're too strong to let anything get you down!' 

Now, I have no idea if this is having any impact at all- I don't know if it did with Ethan earlier, either. This is new, something I'm believing is worth a try and I've found that all I need to do to develop a power is to really want it- touching Justin; telepathy; moving an object and now objects; transporting; becoming more and more solid in my presence on both the living plane and the ghostly one; having my son see, hear and be able to touch me and Justin… there are a lot of things Jason said were exceptionally rare powers that haven't been difficult for me to master, and there are some that he never told me about at all that I possess. This is one I'm trying for the sake of the people I love. Yes: love, dammit. 

I grasp Sunshine's hand next to me. "Try it with me, Justin." 

"How?" He asks. 

"Like I said before- believe. Want it. And focus." 

We both focus on Vic and I can hear Justin talking to Vic and I smile. "I think you're doing it, Sunshine," I whisper. "I'm not sure if we should both talk to him at once, though- it'll be a little crowded in that wonderful head of his." 

Sunshine looks at me briefly and winks with a smile- and fuck: a tear. "Why don't you talk to him some more- you practically grew up with him. I'll go sit by Debbie." 

I look back to Vic, so frail-looking in this condition. I curse Ethan. 'Vic, it's Brian again- that was Justin just talking to you, but you know that. Wake up, Vic. We all need you. You know, I don't know what you heard the doctors saying as they were working on you, but if any of it made you feel hopeless or scared or alone, fuck'em. As Emmett would say, 'fuck'em all'. You have a lot of reason to hope and push those twinkling gray eyes open- I happen to know you can do it. I grew up with you- you're the strongest man I know; I turned to you when I knew no one else would understand me- you always did. 

I continue to focus my mind. 'And you shouldn't feel scared, if you can help it. Sunshine and I will always be here for you- even if you don't live, Vic. But you will live. We're ghosts you know. When you wake up, ask Mikey about that - he knows too. We'll always be around, and we'll watch over you and Deb and Mikey- and Emm and Ted and the munchers. Gus can see us and touch us and talk to us- when he touched me and talked to me, even though I'm a ghost... that made me happier than I've ever been. 

'So, you aren't alone ever, no matter what- so don't be scared. Open those eyes, Vic…' I gasp when Vic's eyes *do* open! 

"Sunshine!" I call. He looks over and gasps as well. 

"Oh!" 

Vic's monitors pick up a little as his pulse quickens. He's looking right at me. "Brian! It *is* you!" 

I grin at him. "Shhh! The nurses are gonna come in and think you're hallucinating!" 

"Am I?" 

I lean down and kiss his cheek and whisper, "no," in his ear. And I wink at him and squeeze his hand. 

Tears come to his eyes and suddenly the room is flooded with doctors and nurses and Vic looks up at them, then looks to me again, but I'm apparently no longer visible to him. I wipe my own eyes and stand, knowing he's going to pull through. I'd already known he would- he's a survivor despite all odds. 

I suddenly notice Justin at my side, crying too. 

"He could see me when he first woke up," I say quietly. "He talked to me, and I told him to be careful, that the nurses that were rushing in would think he was hallucinating. Then he asked if he was," I let out a light laugh. "I assured him he wasn't." Fuck. I'm sobbing. "Then he looked at all the doctors and nurses surrounding him, and looked again to me- and couldn't see me anymore." 

"You pulled him through this, Brian. You did." 

"Nah. He's one of the strongest people I know. He'd have done it himself, I know it." I kiss Sunshine, a huge kiss and he grins. 

"I love you, Brian…" Justin says very quietly. 

"You have to stop saying that every 3-5 minutes, Sunshine," I smirk. But then I look deep into his eyes, and he knows. He knows how I feel. He always has, the fucker. I pull away before it gets way too intense even for a dead guy who pierced the veil with his partner. "How is Deb?" 

"She's not awake, if that's what you mean…" 

"Well, you were only with her a few minutes, Justin." 

"Why don't you go to Michael- you know he'll respond to you much more than me. I'll go back to Deb and then we can switch off or something," he suggests. 

I nod and go over to Mikey, sit and take his hand. 'Hey, Mikey,' I telepathy, 'guess who? We got Ethan, Mikey- he's confessed to everything, and when the cops left, Carl sent a few other officers to pick up Ben. I know sorry's bullshit- but I'm sorry you got so caught up in this mess. And I'm sorry I didn't protect you when I should have. 

'I was thinking the other day about the time you and I tried to build that tree house. We were so proud of that plank we attempted to hammer in that oak in your back yard… then we sat on it all of 5 minutes before we went crashing to the ground! 

I sigh. "Fags should NOT build things- we should leave that to the dykes. Ask Mel. She built my son's swing set- Linds and I tried, but in the end, Smelly Melly ended up building it single handedly. Put me in my place, eh?

'Eh, not really. Listen, Mikey, I don't know if you'll be able to see and hear me and Sunshine after you wake up; and I'll miss that. Just remember it and know it *was* real, and not a bad dream with us catching you whacking off to my soccer picture,' I chuckle despite myself. 'Sorry to bring that up, Mikey. You know I love you- always have, always will. Even after death, I love you. And remember our times in life and with me as a ghost always, okay? And I'll see you again and will be with you all the time. Talk to your Uncle Vic about me- he just saw me and thought he was seeing things! Don't worry- he's alive—" 

Shit! "Justin!" 

He looks over as Michael's eyes flutter open; and just then as I look over at Justin looking over at us, I see Deb's eyes open and I point Justin's attention to her. "Oh, shit!" He mutters.

I look back to Michael. "Brian?" 

"Can you see me, Michael?" 

"Brian, where are you?" He's looking through me and I'm saddened that he can't see me, but I sort of knew he wouldn't. I kiss him on the cheek and go to Justin, having a feeling that Deb can see us right now- for a moment. I come up behind Justin and kiss behind his ear. 

"Sunshine! Brian! You're here! Was this all a dream?" 

"Hey, 'Ma'," I say, smiling. "Unfortunately, no- but neither is this. You're seeing us. And we're together; and we'll be near you always, okay? Remember that- and remember that we love you…" 

"Brian finally admits he loves..." she says softly. I roll my eyes. Tears form in her eyes as she feebly tries to reach for us, but pandemonium breaks out as more medical teams rush in to work on Michael and Deb. 

I turn Justin in my arms and he hugs me, crying. "Shhhhh…" I soothe. "You did it, Sunshine…"

"I love you, Brian. I'm so glad- SO glad I have you, can hold you, can spend the rest of … fuck, eternity with you! I'll miss our family and friends- but it's you that really matters…" 

I sigh. Suck it up, Kinney: Justin already knows. "I love you too," I whisper, not looking at him in the eye. I feel him inhale sharply and pull back, his hands gripping my shoulders to look into my eyes. His are sparkling blue, welled up with tears and he lunges at me- I'm nearly bowled over with an armful of blond 'soulmate' (that, I won't say).

We leave the hospital as the whole family passes by in a rush having heard the news from Horvath about Vic, Deb and Mikey waking up. Words like 'miraculous' and 'all nearly at the same time' and 'unbelievable- plus they got Ethan- he and Ben…' 

Then we're out of earshot, walking with our arms around each other down the rain-wet street and into the night. 

We pause under a streetlamp and he leans against it, the glow catching his beautiful golden hair. 

"Going someplace?" I ask a little hoarsely.

With a very faint smile, Justin licks his beautiful lips, looking deep into my eyes. "No place special…"

"I can change that…"

"You already have…" he whispers and leans up and we share a long, intense kiss. 

And here we are. Together. Forever. Fuck- I'll be spending eternity with the queen of schmaltz. 

With my Sunshine.

\--END--


End file.
